


Hadopelagic

by DustOnBothSides



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Kylo Ren, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Armitage Hux Has Issues, Brendol Hux's A+ Parenting, Introspection, Kylo Ren Can Cook, Lichens, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Armitage Hux, Scent Marking, Scents & Smells, self-image issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2020-05-02 06:38:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19193698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustOnBothSides/pseuds/DustOnBothSides
Summary: After a life of staying pharmaceutically heat-free, Hux has to allow his body to go through at least one natural cycle, lest there be consequences. He takes a shore leave and travels to a former omegan retreat, abandoned and all but forgotten after the fall of Old Republic. Ren, not knowing of Hux's predicament, decides to follow, suspecting treason. He finds something else instead.(Prompts no.1&4 for the Kylux Omegaverse Week -going through a heat & scents)Art in chapter 3





	1. Condition//Distrust

**Author's Note:**

> My fic for the Omegaverse week. It'll be a multi-chapter one. Mpreg is mentioned, but it doesn't really figure in the story much.

> Hux buttoned up his jacket and slicked an unruly strand of hair back in its place. 
> 
> A woman watched him patiently as she slowly twirled a stylus between her deft fingers. 
> 
> When the General found himself presentable again, he gave the woman a long, hard stare. She didn’t flinch, didn’t stop playing with the stylus. Her calm demeanour never changed in all those years he had known her. Then again, he expected as much from someone who participated in the Clone Wars and survived, albeit with prosthetics replacing both of her legs. 
> 
> He pressed his lips together. 
> 
> “So there is no other way around it.” He stated rather than asked. 
> 
> The woman, Doctor Torsta, tapped the end of the stylus against her desk and gave the datapad in front of her another cursory look, as if she wanted to check whether the results displayed there changed in any way. 
> 
> “There are always _options_ , however in the long run, this is for the best. The longer you put it off, General, the worse the consequences you’ll have to deal with. Even at this point it won’t be no cakewalk.” 
> 
> Hux frowned. 
> 
> “How much time do I have?”
> 
> “Hm… I’d say about eight, nine days.”
> 
> “Eight days…” Hux repeated, his mind feverishly trying to come up with the best strategy for this situation. 
> 
> Doctor Torsta gave him a look with the ghost of pity. Though she didn’t suffer from the same condition as him, she knew how frustrating it was when one’s body refused to follow mind’s orders. Those legs of hers were the fourth pair she had, and by the whirring of the numerous servomotors and the pain shooting up her hips every morning she knew that she’d have to get a fifth pair before too soon. 
> 
> “You know, General, it’s not the end of the world. You could just, ah, _enjoy it_ and resume your duties refreshed and relaxed.”
> 
> Hux slowly turned to her, fixing her with a cold, pale glare. 
> 
> “…or not.” She heaved a sigh. 
> 
>  
> 
> Kylo Ren rammed into a practice droid and quickly moved away as another attacked him from behind with a riot-control baton. He ducked, turned on his heal and swung his pole at the attacker, hitting its wrist hard enough to elicit a couple of sparks. Then a third droid hit him in the kidneys. Disregarding the pain, he steadied himself with the force, spun around his axis and added the momentum to the strike of his palm, which landed on the underside of the droid’s chin. 
> 
> Exercise of this intensity would usually make pure, unbridled joy course through his veins, his alpha instincts spurring him on to move faster, hit harder and attack, attack, attack, until the world would turn into a wonderful blur of motion and freedom. 
> 
> But on that day he couldn’t quite reach this exquisite state, even though it seemed to be at a hand’s reach. Every time he was _just_ about to lose himself, everything came rushing back. The tedium of meetings with High Command. The confusion of First Order’s administrative apparatus. The hundreds of requests which rained on him from every side. All those stupid yet at the same time infuriatingly valid reasons why he couldn’t go after the Resistance _right now_. 
> 
> His concentration wavered yet again and the droids, specifically calibrated to Kylo’s abilities, took the opening. One hit his left ankle and as Kylo fell, grunting with pain, another slammed its pole right into his diaphragm, knocking the wind out of him. 
> 
> Kylo used the force to flick their off-switches and rolled on his back, his innards churning with frustration. 
> 
> It was _his_ fault. Of that he was certain. 
> 
> Hux. 
> 
> Six days ago the sly General walked into his office and requested a leave. For _health reasons_ , apparently. Though he was as pasty as anyone who spent most of their life on a Star Destroyer, there didn’t seem to be a single wrong thing with him. 
> 
> When he saw the Supreme Leader’s reluctance, Hux had remarked that he hadn’t taken a single day off ever since the time he shot the remains of his father into space, so according to the First Order directives, he was eligible for approximately two months’ worth of vacations. Compared to that one week was nothing special. 
> 
> Kylo eventually relented just to get the ginger out of his hair, but now he was starting to reconsider. 
> 
> He knew that Hux was a dangerous schemer. Was he really in a spa somewhere, or was he, perhaps, meeting with some disgruntled officers to plan a coup? He could clearly picture it in his mind. Hux, together with the other weaklings too cowardly to let their discontent openly show, lounging in a luxury bar and drinking some extravagantly expensive brandy. Weaving their nets of intrigues in hopes of capturing him. 
> 
> Kylo’s imagination went one step further and painted the whole scene in vivid details. The old, bitter, decrepit senior officers. Dregs from the days of the Empire, who had ran away after Endor with their tails tucked between their legs, and then patted one another’s shoulders in the Unknown Regions, congratulating themselves for their “cleverness”. Fat men softened and bleached by years of idleness among the unknown stars. 
> 
> And Hux among them, with his hair shining like a beacon. A stiff-backed, unshakeable pillar of the First Order, stern-faced and blue-eyed. Kylo couldn’t imagine that man indulge in anything - except destruction, that is. But what about those men? Were _they_ reluctant to indulge, or did their hands travel ever so often to pat the General’s shoulder or discreetly touch his wrist?
> 
> Or-
> 
> Kylo shook his head. 
> 
> What the hell was wrong with him? Did he actually thought, even if for a moment, that the scrawny ginger weasel was in some way _desirable_? He threw away his practise staff and scoffed. 
> 
> It was the fight. It made his blood boil and his alpha instincts kick in, and those, in turn, made him look for someone to warm his bed. The fact that they made him see _Hux_ in this light was a testament of how desperate he was. 
> 
> He jumped on his feet and left for the showers. Time for a maintenance wank. 
> 
>  
> 
> Hux frowned and snapped even at his favourite MSE droid, which had followed him all the way from the _Guidance_ , a _Venator_ -class ship which had been used as a mobile academy and barracks for the sub-adults taken into the Unknown Regions. 
> 
> On his behalf, doctor Torsta dredged up some buried intel on a small Outer Rim planet, the single satellite of its star. Apparently it used to be a world oft visited by omegas in… _predicament_ , back in the days of Old Republic. There had been many facilities to cater to them, but all of that came to an end with, well, the end of Old Republic. The world was still there, but now it was nigh-forgotten and therefore perfect for him. Or so the doctor had said. 
> 
> Hux didn’t trust her. Didn’t trust _anyone_ for that matter. Even K4, his protocol droid, and 411-Y, the little MSE, underwent regular diagnostics and memory maintenance. Nevertheless, his own personal research more or less validated the doctor’s words. 
> 
> But even if it hadn’t, he’d still have little choice. The _Finalizer_ was his home, but he’d rather spend That Time in the meanest Corellian cantina or in the depths of Zonama Sekot’s bor forests rather than here. Precisely because he loved the ship so much. 
> 
> He didn’t want to sully it with his... with that… _thing_ he was about to have. 
> 
> When he returned to the med-bay to inform the doctor he agreed with her offer, she gave him two flimsis. 
> 
> One contained a list of recommended items to bring along, and the other was a pamphlet of sorts. A single look at it made him want to hurl the thing out of an airlock, but what choice did he have? Since he stopped taking the usual medicines he was starting to feel it. An odd pressure here, an unfamiliar ache there. The first harbingers. 
> 
> _Is that really all that I am?_ He asked himself later on, as the ramp of the _Xi_ -class rose behind his back. 
> 
> _Does it really all come down to **that**? _


	2. Revulsion//Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came up with ideas for this chapter mostly while swimming in our city pool. 
> 
> So many kudos and comments for the first chapter, and in such a short time. Wow. Big thanks to everyone, and I hope you'll keep enjoying this story.

> Once the shuttle reached the orbit of Ascodita, it began to descend in a graceful, wide arc. The pilot didn’t announce neither of those actions, as it wasn’t programmed to do so. Just like it wasn’t programmed to keep the path of the vessel in its memory. For his way back, Hux took a specialised transmitter, which he would use to call in another ship, once he was fit to lead again. 
> 
> The shuttle landed and its ramp was lowered. A speeder had already been prepared for him at the edge of a small platform which served as a spaceport. Hux boarded it and entered the coordinates. 
> 
> As soon as the vehicle took off, Hux’s cheeks were stroked by a balmy wind. The wind, which brought a dozen of unfamiliar scents. Some were more flowery, some were rather earthy, others could’ve been compared to such things as _stormy rain, spring water, snow on a sunny day,_ or _sun-heated soil_. But not by Hux, who knew nothing of these things. 
> 
> In his unfamiliarity, he could only find them soothing, and he was fine with that. 
> 
> The speeder took him away from the primitive spaceport towards what he thought was a forest. The closer he got, the more mysterious and tantalizing the scents got. He wasn’t even out of the speeder yet and he could already feel himself relax. 
> 
> Relax, yet at the same time tense up. 
> 
> A part of him still cried out that he didn’t want this, that this wasn’t _him._
> 
> But the medical charts were clear enough. 
> 
> He _had_ to. 
> 
> He clenched his fists. He hated this. 
> 
>  
> 
> One day later the same spaceport saw the arrival of a state of the art TIE fighter. One TIE Silencer, carrying the frowning Supreme Leader of the First Order. 
> 
> Back on the _Finalizer_ he had noticed the return of Hux’s shuttle. The General wasn’t aboard and the droid pilot’s memory has been erased along with the ship logs. This only added to Kylo’s suspicions of the man. 
> 
> He stepped out of the TIE and stretched his back. There was no need to follow the General right away. Hux’s force signature was already engraved within his mind, so he could take it slow. 
> 
> He took a speeder bike and rode towards a volcanic range, towering in the distance. His destination was an oddly-coloured forest at the foot of one of the nearest volcanoes. The force told him Hux was somewhere within that range of conical mountains. Kylo didn’t plan to confront him _just yet_ though. He had mulled about this during those long hours spent travelling through the hyperspace and came to the conclusion he’d wait for the next day, so the General would hopefully drop his guard. 
> 
> After a short while he took his helmet off in order to enjoy the speed, the wind against his face. While refreshing, it carried an odd smell. In fact, it carried a great number of them. Kylo wrinkled his nose. Their blend was too sweet for him - in fact, it almost smelled like perfume. Still, it was better than the sterile, recycled air of Star Destroyers. 
> 
> Eventually he realized that what he had thought to be trees were, in fact, giant lichens. As he stopped the speeder, he couldn’t help but be amazed by their sheer size. The largest of their porous stalks had to be at least twenty metres tall, and each was tipped with a shiny black bulb. They grew out of soft looking, pillow-like mounds that were covered by some grass-like growth of jade green, which rippled under the touch of the breeze in interesting patterns. Kylo felt the urge to lie on them just to find out how that would feel, but thought the better of it. If these things _were_ some kind of fungi, they might’ve released spores, and he had read enough horror novels in his childhood to know where _that_ was going. 
> 
> He found himself a nice place to pitch a camp, and as the whitish sun sank under the horizon, he got a fire going, and hung a pot above its merrily crackling flames. It didn’t take long and the pot bubbled with a thick soup of smoked meat, groat, soft pieces of the ruby-red sytta root, and large onion rings. He gave it an appraising sniff and finished it off with seasoning from a small pouch he carried with him whenever he went planetside. Some spicy leaves of ulla plant here, a pinch of dried starflower there, then some finely ground horra nut, which had no flavour of its own, but whose presence amplified other flavours, and Kylo was practically salivating. 
> 
> When the stars grew bright and two of Ascodita’s three moons appeared, Kylo sat with his back against a basalt boulder, content with having his belly full and face caressed by the night wind. He finished off his delicious dinner with a pot of thick, strong caf and as he sipped at it, he smiled in the fire-lit darkness. He’d almost forgive Hux for double-crossing him. Perhaps he’ll be lenient with the punishment. Poor Hux, who most likely dined on tasteless rations and polystarch bread. 
> 
> He stretched his back and almost purred with satisfaction. 
> 
> He should’ve done this more often. 
> 
>  
> 
> A brush of cool wind against his cheek woke him up. 
> 
> He sat up from the mat he had placed next to the fire and yawned. 
> 
> There were some odd creatures sniffing (?) at the last dying embers of the camp fire and the covered pot above it. They were about as tall as his forearm and consisted of nothing but three stumpy legs connected in the middle. When he stood up, they scuttled away. Kylo watched them, vaguely intrigued by their strange form and movement. 
> 
> He got the fire going again, reheated the leftovers from yesterday’s dinner and made himself a fresh mug of caf. By the time his breakfast was hot, his modest camp was all packed up. Kylo ate without hurry and watched as the sun began to dawn behind giant lichens. First there was a spreading rosy glow, then the first sliver of the sun appeared and for a moment the gentle curve of volcanoes was traced by a spilling line of gold. Drops of dew covering the overgrown lichen stalks glittered like diamonds and the plants released an unusual smell, as if to welcome another morning. It smelled of green and ozone and water, and there a kind of a pure quality to it. It was… _nice_. But the alpha part of his personality shook its head. Kylo usually preferred heavier, muskier scents. Metal and leather, burning wood and rain-drenched soil. 
> 
> He washed his dishes in a nearby spring and filled his pot with water which he poured over the fire. 
> 
> Then he set off, ready to put an end to any scheming and teach Hux a lesson he’d never forget. He was prepared to engrave it in the General’s flesh if he had to. His alpha side purred. He had no idea whether Hux was an alpha or a beta, considering that the man didn’t smell of anything but freshly pressed laundry and anger, but whatever he was, Kylo would remind him of his place. He’d show them all. 
> 
>  
> 
> As the day went by, Hux got more and more frustrated. 
> 
> He felt restless. His skin was overly sensitive. One moment he was hot, then he shivered with cold. His lower back hurt as if he’d been slammed against a console. But even though there was no one there but him, he refused to let any of this show. 
> 
> As soon as he woke up, his head slightly heavy from the alcohol ha drank the night before, he practised yoga for over an hour to relax. Once his mind reached a semblance of peace, he grabbed the other flimsi the doctor gave him and read through it with grim determination he had usually reserved for meetings with his father or the Supreme Leader(s).
> 
> _Healthy, Happy, Harmonious - Omega’s Guidebook of Ascodita._
> 
> There even pictures in it. Cutesy drawings of soft, pretty omegas with plump, ruddy cheeks, wearing colourful dresses. A human, twi’lek, Pantoran, Sullustan and a Nautolan. 
> 
> He had expected that reading this would make him angry and annoyed. 
> 
> What he didn’t see coming was this dejectedness and regret, this confusion. 
> 
> He got up from the chair and looked over the area assigned to him. 
> 
> A large swath of land covered in carpets of blooming starweed, huge pillows of yellowish-white sun lichen and tall stalks of greater aihwapods, a type of giant lichen which often grew past ten metres. His simple, small house with a moss-covered roof stood on top of a gentle hill and in the valley there was a small lake whose waters had a strikingly teal colour. All around were hexagonal columns of basalt in the shape of old-fashioned starting ramps. Hux’s heightened senses could distinguish even the scent of these stones. They formed a solid undercurrent to the flood of other smells. He actually found himself preferring the simple, pure scents of the stone and the water, even though the others were not without charm. 
> 
> Suddenly he was hit by another wave of heat, which made the lake look more alluring than ever before. He rushed inside the house to quickly change his clothes. The heat made his skin tingle and burn all over. He wasn’t wearing his uniform anymore, couldn’t really, but now even the tank-top and the trousers became a chore to wear. They chafed at his skin so unpleasantly, he had no other choice but to wear _those_ clothes. It seemed as if his body simply rejected his sense of fashion - yet another addition to its string of betrayals. 
> 
> At least this new garment was nowhere near as garish as the pictures in that infernal guidebook. 
> 
> As soon as he changed, he grabbed a towel, and went to towards the lake, which had a crescent moon shape. There was a pathway across it, made out of hexagonal stepping stones supported by duracrete pillars, hidden by the murky, mineral-rich waters. 
> 
> Hux crossed the pathway to a small peninsula, which was guarded by one of the few trees growing in this part of the planet. It had a smooth, ashen bark and its thin, twisted branches sported a wild foliage of lobe-shaped leaves, vermillion in colour. Many of its roots ended in the water of the lake and Hux noticed that some of them wept a bright yellow sap. He remembered that the flimsi about this area mentioned something about the sap being beneficial to omegas, so he chose to ignore it. 
> 
> He packed many things, but swimming trunks were not among them. He wanted to be angry at the doctor, but realised he wouldn’t be able to wear them anyway. Which meant had to skinny-dip. 
> 
> He looked around crabbily. There was no sentient life here. Just several kinds of birds, some oversized butterflies and various kinds of cephatripods, the last group being hidden within the lichen, waiting for the night to come so they could feed on its algae. 
> 
> Heaving a sigh, he tested the water with his toes. It was cool without being too cold. In other words, perfect for him. 
> 
> _You had no qualms about communal showers back then_ , he chided himself as he undid the clasp of his garment and folded it carefully at the base of the tree. 
> 
> And without any further ado, he jumped in the water. 
> 
> What his toes found agreeable shook his body to the core. He grinned, happy he could return at least some of the blows. The cold sent quite the jolt through his limbs, but still he started to swim. After all, he was no stranger to cold showers. 
> 
> Soon the body got used to the water’s temperature, and so he could swim in peace. His tempo was slow and relaxed. He wasn’t a particularly stellar swimmer, having had no opportunities to better himself, but the unhurried breast-stroke free of the annoying splashes of other styles suited his mood. He made hardly any wave on the surface as he passed small tufts of sun lichen and then floating isles of some flowering water plant, whose cream coloured, bell-shaped blossoms spread a light fragrance. Rather than any kinds of recognisable compounds, their scent evoked the feelings of _distance, things waiting there_ and _comfort in solitude_. Smelling this was a very odd experience. 
> 
> Hux reached the end of the lake, turned around and went for another length, his tempo still leisurely. In fact, it was even slower than before. 
> 
> Swimming in this water calmed him down and, paradoxically enough, made him think of the pamphlet. _Healthy, Happy, Harmonious._ He was none of those things. 
> 
> In the back of his mind, he always resented being an omega. Fortunately, the medicines he took and the lifestyle he led spared him the majority of problems bound to this secondary gender and the embarrassment stemming from them. He never wanted to be an omega. Or anything else for that matter. He was Hux, Armitage. A general of the First Order. What mattered was the inside of his head and not the trousers. He would lead them to victory. All of them. The other generals as well as gunners, the combatants as well as techs. He wished that even the meanest janitor and the last kitchen hand would partake on the triumph one day. He would bestow a new order on this disorderly galaxy and give everyone A Place and A Purpose.
> 
> And in spite of the nobleness of his goals, his body still betrayed him like this. 
> 
> Last night he actually turned in early, due to the overall discomfort of the approaching heat. He woke up some three hours later due to thirst, and when he rolled over to grab some water, he felt something wet trickle from between his thighs. 
> 
> Mortified, he turned the lights on and jumped away from the bed. There was a small dark spot staining the sheets where he had lain. It was smaller than his little finger, and yet… 
> 
> His hand had slid between the cheeks of his rear and he actually hoped to see blood. Blood meant internal injury or ailment and that was _fixable_. 
> 
> The liquid on his fingers was transparent and viscous. 
> 
> Slick. 
> 
> He had all but ran into the bathroom where he took a cold shower, and scrubbed his hands red and raw. When he stepped out, he grabbed a bottle of some local spirits left for him in the bar. 
> 
> It felt humiliating. 
> 
> It felt demeaning. 
> 
> And yet instead of hate, he realised there was nothing but aching sadness laced with regret. 
> 
> _Healthy, Happy, Harmonious - Omega’s Guide to Ascodita._
> 
> _Between the spring months of Lausskagynn and Bolwygynn the meadows of Ascodita’s Northern hemisphere bloom with some of the most amazing plants the galaxy has ever seen. Do you think they’re only good for looking? Think again! Let’s learn how to turn them into delicious candies, how to make tea out of them, how to draw them, and even how tom make a beautiful crown for that special mate in your life!_
> 
> _Let’s learn how to cook! Are you ashamed of your lacking skills? Practise makes master and we’ll show you how to turn even the easiest recipes in the most scrumptious of meals. Why not throw a picnic and hand-feed your mate in one of the numerous amazing locations of Ascodita?_
> 
> _Children are a joy, but preparing for their arrival can be hard! How about learning how to adjust your clothes for that lovely bump you’ll have? It only takes a bit of effort to make wonderful creations with your own two hands! Clothes! Hats! Stuffed animals!_
> 
> _How about a special commemoration of sealing your bond? Just ask our staff to prepare that one truly special evening you both deserve. And who knows…_
> 
> There was much more in that pamphlet. 
> 
> He should’ve been disgusted by this, but… 
> 
> He refused to be an omega on principle, he wasn’t sycophantic enough for a beta, and his build was too slight and thinking too calm for an alpha. So what _was_ he? 
> 
> Was he even alive? Didn’t the fact, that he had distanced himself from this world of picnics and baby-bumps mean that his existence had no meaning outside of his position? 
> 
> A sudden spread of uneasiness kept him from finishing his sixth length and made him swim to the bank. 
> 
> He was not a droid. He was a person. But what was the difference between him and, say, K-4? Did anyone actually _see_ a difference? What was he supposed to be then? A cold, calculating machine, or an omega, just like the members of _those_ communes on some Star Destroyers? He saw one of them once, back when he was but a lieutenant. Captain Nelltys had shown Armitage, the son of the _Great_ Brendol Hux, around his ship and didn’t forget to show off his Flowergarden. 
> 
> It was a hall-like room filled with many pieces of absurdly shaped and softly upholstered furniture, occupied by some seventy or more omegas. Male or female, they all wore light, brightly coloured fabrics, contrasting starkly with the monochrome interiors of Star Destroyers, and a good third of them was pregnant. In his ignorance, he had asked whether the captain was the father. The stout, broad-shouldered man roared with laughter and said that though an alpha, his endurance had its limits. The Flowergarden was open to all senior officers. Because the Empire needed children. 
> 
> The omegas all looked content and round, and not at all resentful about their predicament. And some of the older ones looked at him. And he knew. He knew _they_ knew. 
> 
> Later that day when he was finally free to retire, he had been sick. Violently so. And the tears which had streamed down his face were the tears of horror. 
> 
> These memories chilled even the present day Hux to the bones. His chest felt tight all of a sudden. 
> 
> He had to get out. 


	3. Rage//Attraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... another chapter out. Lera Lynn makes good songs which go very well with the general feel of this story. Especially those featured on True Detective S02 
> 
> I'll have to slow down with the updates though. This speed was very demanding. I'll grab some wine now and go write more naughty parts. Wish me luck.

> Thanks to the combination of the force and his considerable stamina, Kylo found Hux’s hideout early in the afternoon. It was empty. He took the liberty of searching it and found the General’s recently worn clothes, folded neatly on one pile. If that wasn’t disturbing enough, he also smelled an odd scent in the room. It smelled… it reminded him of freshly sharpened blades, of slowly approaching storms, of heavy autumnal fogs. A delightful shiver ran down Kylo’s spine. 
> 
> He had no idea where it came from, but decided to ignore it for the time being. His main concern was Hux and his schemes. The force didn’t show him anyone else, but that didn’t mean much. The General might’ve been simply waiting for the rest to show up. It would be very much like him, to arrive beforehand and secure the location. 
> 
> Kylo could feel him close by, so he decided to follow. 
> 
> He stepped out in the overgrown grass and looked around. There was a shallow basin just up ahead, and Hux was down there. Kylo couldn’t see him, since the local flora obstructed his vision, but he had his other senses plus the meticulously honed instinct of a hunter. 
> 
> Instead of taking the most direct route to where the General was, he decided to weave his way through a dense growth of strange, pale-green lichens shaped like huge funnels, whose insides glowed with a gentle yellow light. He paid them no attention, no matter how wondrous they were. As he got closer and closer to his prey, he crouched down until he almost crawled, his right hand on his lightsaber and the mind ready to stop any and each blaster shot. 
> 
> When he got close enough to hear his prey’s breath, he slowly peeked from behind one of the taller plants. 
> 
> He was not prepared for what he saw.
> 
> Hux was there. So very near. And he was… he wasn’t dressed in his usual First Order uniform. Instead he wore a simple long robe the colour of smoke. Every time the wind blew, it raised its hem, revealing Hux’s surprisingly shapely legs. The wind also ruffled the General’s fiery hair, which for once wasn’t weighted down by any product. Kylo couldn’t tear his eyes away from those ginger tresses as they billowed in the wind, longer than he had thought them to be. Whenever the sun shone through a patchy layer of clouds, it turned them into a copper halo. Gone was the stern, scornful expression. Hux’s face looked-
> 
> _Damned! You are damned!_ Kylo heard a voice within his mind, though he wasn’t sure whether those words were meant for him or for Hux. 
> 
> And then Hux bent over with a very purposeful look in his eyes. Kylo’s whole body tensed and a growl formed deep within his throat. 
> 
> A comm-link. 
> 
> There had to be a comm-link lying there. 
> 
> He burst out of his hiding place. 
> 
>  
> 
> Once the wind dried his hair, Hux made his way back to the house. He was tired. Tired of thinking. Tired of feeling. There were dull aches all over his body and he felt generally uncomfortable, so he came to the conclusion that a nap was probably the best course of action, no matter how criminal it felt, to sleep outside the rest cycle. 
> 
> He was halfway between the lake and the house, when something on the ground piqued his interest. It was a tight, shiny green bulb, which he knew would become a rosette of leaves within the next few days. From what he had read, this plant had strong analgesic proprieties and not only that. It worked as a mild stimulant, helping one to focus, and even mitigated heats. Turning it in a nice cup of tea sounded pretty neat, so he crouched down and tore the bulb off, but as he straightened up, his fingers stained by the sharp-smelling sap, he saw a shadow from the corner of his eye. 
> 
> Somehow he knew who it was even before he could see that accursed face. A jolt of dread and alarm painfully squeezed his already aching guts. _This is not possible!_ His reason cried out in an attempt to deny the obvious. 
> 
> _He_ came for him.
> 
> Kylo Ren. 
> 
> Hux didn’t know how, didn’t know why. Ren couldn’t’ve possibly found out about his condition. Could he? The General clenched his fists. He didn’t have a single weapon on his body, but perhaps if he used his hands… he’d end up dead. It was that simple. 
> 
> The alpha strode towards him and Hux took an involuntary step back. 
> 
> “What the _kriff_ do you think you’re doing here, Ren!?” he barked out, fighting the urge to pull the robe closer to his body. 
> 
> And then Ren’s hand went straight for his throat. 
> 
>  
> 
> For some reason Kylo thought it would be better to use physical force rather than the living one, but before he could reach the ginger’s throat to throttle the confession of his crimes out of him, Hux slapped his hand away, looking strangely unworried for a man caught red-handed. 
> 
> “Where are your lackeys?” Kylo asked as he pulled his hand away. He would get his answers and he would get them all. 
> 
> “What? What the kriff are you talking about?” Hux snapped. 
> 
> “Don’t think I didn’t see through this little ploy of yours. What are you plotting, General? Speak, before I slowly crush your bones, one by one.”
> 
> “You must’ve lost your mind, you oaf. I have clearly requested a leave for health reasons - which you have granted. And then you have the _nerve_ to actually follow me, and not only disturb me, but-“
> 
> “ _Health reasons? Hah!_ You wouldn’t stay away from the bridge even if your guts were about to fall out. _Where are your accomplices?_ ”
> 
> _“There is no one else around and if you had even a **shred** of good sense, you would’ve used that force of yours to see the obvious. But no. You just **had** to burst in, in your alpha stupidity. Do you think that just because you have the force, you are exempted from behaving like a human being? Strutting around like you own the galaxy without lifting **a finger** to secure it - you make me **sick!**_ ” Hux yelled at him, lost in his rage. 
> 
> Kylo knew he should’ve put an end to this and choke the man, but a part of him couldn’t believe how _good_ Hux looked even in his anger. _Especially_ in his anger. His dishevelled hair fell in his blazing eyes and his cheeks were flushed red, the healthy colour of a living being. 
> 
> “You want to fight me, General?” Kylo asked as his heart started to beat faster and fire spread through his veins. 
> 
> He wanted to fight Hux. 
> 
> _Yes, let’s fight! Fight, fight, fight until the both of us are glistening with blood!_ -His alpha side passionately exclaimed, while the reasonable one had enough presence of mind to wonder what made the prospect of fighting Hux _right now_ feel so special. The idea of a fight brought him joy, yes. That was normal. However this sheer delight was unprecedented. 
> 
> Hux stopped dead in his tracks and glared at Kylo with sheer loathing. 
> 
> “Yes, because fighting a _chunk_ like you is such a good idea. No. I want you to _leave. **Now.**_ ” He said, his anger having gone from fire to ice. “I’m in no mood to disprove your paranoid delusions. Direct this energy of yours into something that actually matters, like leading the Order, so that you’ll become an actually _respected_ leader. One who leads through wisdom and cunning instead of alpha posturing. Do this, and I won’t have to think of ways to get rid of you.”
> 
> Those words stung because they were true. 
> 
> He’d never admit it even to himself, but Kylo actually _did_ feel stupid every now and then, mostly during strategy or administrative meetings; and when someone pointed his lack of knowledge out, be it through gestures or looks, or even just _thoughts_ , he _did_ use his posturing. A little. From time to time. 
> 
> _But that wasn’t any of Hux’s business!_
> 
> He snarled, his anger blending into the desire to fight, and launched himself at Hux. 
> 
> The ginger buried a fist in Kylo’s abdomen, but he might as well have punched a brick wall. 
> 
> Kylo wanted to slam him against one of the giant lichens and then mark that creamy skin with blooming bruises which would serve as a reminder that Hux’s place was and always would be _beneath him_ , but what he did not expect was the lichen immediately collapsing under their weight. Hux lost his footing and fell, Kylo on top of him. And when they hit the ground, it shattered, and they fell further down and into the darkness. 


	4. Drunkenness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was brought to you by Muscat and that new Rammstein album.

> Kylo stood up. 
> 
> He couldn’t see anything, but he could sense walls all around him. Soft walls covered with moisture. Soft walls of _flesh_ covered with _mucus_. Probably the same mucus he was shin-deep in, and which had soaked his sleeves and the legs of his trousers. He was _inside of a living being_. Disgust nestled itself within his stomach, bloating and heavy. He could feel it in the force all around him. And the _stink_. Animal-like musk, suffocating in its intensity, briny and vinegary and sickly sweet, like a rotting pile of sweaty animal hides. But for some reason he could also smell that metallic, rainy scent from before. 
> 
> He gritted his teeth. 
> 
> The image of a sarlacc flashed in front of his mind. 
> 
> _You’ll stay here, decomposing for a thousand years_ \- a voice in his head whispered. 
> 
> From the creature itself he could only feel hunger. Kylo’s grin bared his pointy canines. He was now going to teach it _fear_.
> 
> He rammed his fist against the fleshy wall. It contorted a little, as if in pain. 
> 
> “No, Ren!” Hux yelled from somewhere close by. “Don’t do this! Just stay-“ 
> 
> _“Shut up! I’m not going to die inside a force-damned sarlacc!”_ he cut the ginger off and made another dent in the creature’s inner wall. His fist went in up to his wrist before it hit something akin to a cartilage.
> 
> “No, you’re-!“
> 
> Hux wasn’t allowed to finish the sentence. Ren shoved him roughly to the side and continued his onslaught against the creature. He didn’t want to use his lightsaber, didn’t want to be flooded with gastric acid, but as a last resort it would do. For now he showered the gullet of the beast with punches and kicks. Eventually, he even buried his fingers in the soft, ridged membrane and tried to tear at it with the fury of an enraged anooba, but he couldn’t get a good grip, as the mucus it secreted turned frothy, viscous and extremely slippery. 
> 
> Hux tried to stop him a couple of times, but to no avail. Kylo might’ve elbowed him in the face at one point, _accidentally_ , but he didn’t care too much. It served Hux right. Kylo was just trying to get out. 
> 
> His rage and disgust ran so deep, he didn’t notice it until it was too late. The movement of the walls. This hole they were in started to contract. 
> 
> _“You karking idiot, stop moving already._ ” Hux hissed at him. 
> 
> He ignored the man and launched another attack, but his fist hit the wall much too soon and was rebounded. And when he turned around to attack anew, he ran right into Hux. And he couldn’t back away. A fleshy wall was pressed against his back. 
> 
> They were trapped. 
> 
>  
> 
> “You karking ignoramus. This isn’t a sarlacc.” Hux spat out, trying to regain his calm, to think straight.
> 
> It was difficult. 
> 
> It was difficult to concentrate. 
> 
> The ollua’s wall was pressed against his back. Through the thin fabric of his robe he could feel every jut, ridge, gibbosity and furrow. Lubricated by the creature’s excretions, they slid smoothly against him, soaking his robe through and through. He could feel how they brushed against his shoulder blades, against every single nub of his spine. There was even one rather uncomfortable protrusion, which dig hard into his left gluteus. 
> 
> And on the other side, he was crushed against Ren’s ample chest. 
> 
> Both of these _walls_ flooded him with heat and Ren… Hux bit the inside of his lip to keep the whimper in. Ren just smelled _so good_ after all that physical exertion. So fierce, so powerful. His alpha scent pushed the surrounding stink of the ollua beyond the edges of Hux’s attention. It was like a burning star, but the fire he felt pulsated from within his own loins. 
> 
> He needed to get out, but a part of him actually _welcomed_ this- the smell, those touches, those slides. It even wanted more. This horrified him. He was standing on the edge of an abyss of insanity, and the only thing which allowed him to keep his reason was a memory. 
> 
> _“Can you fix him?”_
> 
> Revulsion flashed through his mind. He wanted to focus on it, use it as a tether to his dignity, but it was much harder than he’d ever suspect. Ren. Ren’s strong body. His alpha scent, so heady he thought he could drown in it. He tried to move away from him, but the walls of the ollua pushed back without mercy and pressed him against the man even tighter. He could feel the movements of Ren’s pectorals and abdominal muscles as he attempted to do the same. Hux began to be consumed by the urge to turn around, hike up his robe and spread his legs. 
> 
> Ever since he was little, Armitage Hux was no stranger to physical punishments. He had been caned, hit, kicked, lashed, burned, and electrocuted. But ever since he left his childhood behind, which was around the time he turned eleven or twelve, he stopped crying. He could wallow in self-pity, he could burn with hate or radiate with anger, but he would _not_ cry. 
> 
> Until now. 
> 
> Now he felt like crying.
> 
> This…
> 
> … was _not…_
> 
> _... **him**. _
> 
> And yet his body refused to listen. 
> 
> A pustule filled out right behind his shoulder blades, pushing him against Ren even tighter. And Ren tried to attack once more. He shifted and Hux was forced to move with him. That protrusion, which had been pressed against his left gluteus, now slid right between them. It pushed against… against that spot in-between… and his front was crushed against Ren’s. 
> 
> He couldn’t. 
> 
> He… 
> 
> … failed. 
> 
> Himself. 
> 
> His thighs became wet with more slick than his body had ever produced. The only thing he wanted was for Ren to make him his, but that one screaming kernel still remained. 
> 
> _“Can you fix him?”_
> 
> Ren’s scent changed. It became so much stronger. Woody like hickory, warming like a winter’s fire. Spectacular like the rising sun on a stormy day. 
> 
> “Hux. Hux, are you an-“ he heard Ren whisper. 
> 
> “…p-please. Please, Ren.” His lips whispered as his thighs parted. 
> 
> Ren breathed out a rugged breath and somehow undid the clasp of Hux’s robe. Hux’s bare skin was pressed against the alpha’s black-clad chest as his huge hand found the omega’s over-sensitive lower cheek. And squeezed. Hard. 
> 
> Somehow the zipper of Ren’s trousers undid itself and the stiff protrusion was delivered from its confines, free to slide against Hux’s. 
> 
> The ridges behind Hux’s back started to undulate and it almost felt like a massage. 
> 
> Hux couldn’t think anymore. 
> 
> He was lost within a maelstrom of sensations. He heard whimpers and soft, breathy moans. He suspected they came from his throat, but he didn’t care. Kylo’s grasp on his rear, the throbbing press of his manhood against Hux’s, the wonderful scent of his - it was all too much. 
> 
> Without knowing what he was doing, Hux craned his neck to the side, and when Kylo rubbed his cheek against it, transferring his scent to the omega’s gland, Hux saw white. He was flooded. The sensation of his seed between their bellies and his slick running down his legs was enough to make him come a second time, and that was before Kylo’s fingers found his entrance. As soon as they went past the rim, entering its depths with an agonising yet delicious slowness, Hux screamed.


	5. Hatred//Guilt

> Hux woke up.
> 
> He felt exhausted and also more sated than ever before, but this he considered the very antithesis of fulfilment.
> 
> He sat up - and crinkled his nose upon noticing the state of his bed, of his body. Of his manhood, which hung flaccid, flush against his reddened thigh. 
> 
> He didn’t remember how he got back to his bed, or out of the ollua for that matter. And he didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to think about anything. He pulled the sheets off the bed, wiped his thighs with them and stuffed them into the washing machine along with his robe, which had been thrown over the headboard. Then he turned the shower on and stepped inside.
> 
> He scrubbed and scrubbed, but it wouldn’t go away. The scent. The spot at the juncture of his neck felt hot against his fingers and it was there where the scent was concentrated the most. As soon as Hux started to recollect the events of the previous day, a fluid different from water started to flow from between his legs and an unpleasant, dirty warmth suffused his body. 
> 
> His heat was now in full swing. Thanks to _him._
> 
> He turned the temperature of the water down and stood limply under its stream.
> 
> When his body started to recall the touches, slides and squeezes, he countered with thinking back of the Flowergarden of Captain Nelltys, and how _those_ omegas there only existed to be pampered and bred by whichever alpha or beta showed interest. No better than livestock. 
> 
> He stopped the shower and dried himself off before putting on a replacement robe. It was lucky he had three sets, because though he just showered, he could already feel the slickness up there. He hadn’t read any anatomy texts on omegan cycles, and education in this regard was never paid any particular attention within the Imperial Remnant, so he could only guess what would make his body stop leaking. The end of the heat; or meeting _the other_ condition, which was not going to happen. Ever. 
> 
> He would soldier through this as he soldiered through every other dark period in his life. He was more than his biology. 
> 
> He left the upper floor with a towel under his arm and went downstairs. 
> 
> As soon as he walked out of the door, he could smell it. The warm, woody scent of an alpha. So Ren decided to crash in without asking, without waiting for permission. Typical. 
> 
> He found the man in the kitchen, nursing a mug of caf. Mixed with the alpha’s natural musk, its scent created such a delicious amalgam, the slick started to flow more thickly. Hux didn’t pay any attention to it. 
> 
> Ren turned to him. “Hux, I-…”
> 
> He refused to acknowledge Ren as he strode past to grab one of the ration bars he had brought as his sustenance. He wouldn’t‘ve looked at him even if Ren would’ve grabbed his arm. He wouldn’t’ve acknowledged him even if the alpha would’ve slammed him over the kitchen table and forced his oversized piece of meat between Hux’s legs. 
> 
> Surprisingly enough, Ren did none of that. Probably too stunned that someone was _not_ paying attention to him for the first time in his life. 
> 
> Hux left the house. His grasp on the ration bar was so tight, his knuckles went white. 
> 
> He walked on and on, past a group of goblet-like sapphire cup lichens with their velvety-soft apothecia covered in Kaminoan blue butterflies, past the grove of greater matchsticks swaying gently in the wind, their black heads wetly glistening, until he reached a shallow meandering river. He walked up its bubbling stream for some time, in the direction of one of the steeper dormant volcanoes, and listened to the gentle murmurs of water in hopes of soothing his shamefully frazzled nerves. 
> 
> There, flanked by walls of hexagonal basalt columns, was a waterfall. It wasn’t particularly high, reaching about four metres in height, but its pool, surrounded by bedewed, moisture loving fern mounds, was rather wide and its crystal-clear, greenish blue water seemed like the very epitome of purity. 
> 
> Hux removed his robe and left it together with the towel and the ration bar on one of the mounds. Then he walked under the waterfall and sat down on his heels. He gritted his teeth. The water was ice. Its touch was like a blow of a durasteel staff. Still, Hux remained seated there, eyes closed, fists clenched. This was fine. He was fine.
> 
>  
> 
> Kylo finished the rest of his caf and stared at the brown-stained bottom of the mug. 
> 
> The house felt much too big for its small size and he - he felt ill at ease. 
> 
> As soon as he had returned with the unconscious General several hours ago, he realised Hux’s smell changed sometimes during their… _plight_. It gained a fragrant, sweet undertone, which reminded him of white peonies planted in front of the Hanna City’s opera house on Chandrila. From the way it now made his body tingle, he knew it was the scent of an omega on the cusp of heat, though at that point this finding was rather redundant. 
> 
> He found Hux beautiful when he saw him facing the wind the previous day. 
> 
> Then, as he fell apart under Kylo’s touch, moaning so sweetly without a single vicious thought on his mind, he was absolutely stunning. 
> 
> But those moments this morning, when the General passed him, he had sensed nothing but gloom and hate. Hate directed, surprisingly enough, not against _him_ , but against the General himself. He wanted to apologise for… well… for many things, but this finding struck him mute. 
> 
> Hux left and he waited. Waited. 
> 
> Waited.
> 
> Eventually he took a short trip back to the Silencer, from where he removed all supplies, both medical and nutritional. When he parked his speeder bike next to the house some four hours later, Hux was still not back. He made himself another mug of caf. He stared at his hands. 
> 
> He… hated this. He hated the knowledge that _he_ was clearly the one in the wrong. His instincts spurred him on to cook a nutritious meal for Hux and prepare his bed, but going by what he had felt from the General this morning, he knew that these sentiments would be less than appreciated. So what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t act as if they were mates. He couldn’t act as if _that_ never happened. He couldn’t leave Hux to his own devices, he couldn’t approach him. 
> 
> So he made himself another mug of caf.
> 
> The General returned with the sunset, and Kylo couldn’t help but stare at the way the rays of the dying sun turned those ginger tresses into strands of liquid copper. Just like in the morning, Kylo’s presence wasn’t acknowledged. He didn’t mind that, but he worried about Hux. _Actually worried_. His mind was a dark mire of cold mud and dead trees. There were memories. Horrific ones. 
> 
> It was strange. Kylo was never able to sense the General’s mind so clearly before, but ever since that time in the slimy gullet of that beast, things have changed. 
> 
> He could see the knot of interlaced omegan bodies, each dressed in a colourful garb, giving them the appearance of a swarm of butterflies. Many were swollen with a child. Most watched Hux with knowing eyes. 
> 
> He saw a doctor with her head shaved bald, an ugly scar on her temple and both legs replaced by bionics, preparing several painfully large needles. 
> 
> He saw… 
> 
> Kylo looked down at his twitching hands. 
> 
> He saw a stout man with ginger hair sprinkled with grey drag a boy of about twelve by his wrist as if he was an unruly child. He dragged the kid towards a towering, multi-armed surgical droid with its scalpels, saws, retractors, and probes, gleaming under the cold med-bay light. 
> 
> _“State problem, sir.”_ The droid asked. 
> 
> _“This child’s tests just got in. He’s an omega.”_ The man spat out. _“Can you fix him so he can be **actually** useful?” _
> 
> _“Sterilization possible. Other procedures unlikely.”_ The droid replied immediately. 
> 
> The man stood there in silence at first, the muscles in his jaw flexing and relaxing, before he turned to the boy, who just stared at his shoes, resigned to whichever fate would befall him. 
> 
> _“I knew it. I should’ve forced that wench to abort you while there was still time. A child of my loins destined to become a whore. A stars-damned **cocksleeve**.” _
> 
> Kylo couldn’t understand. What _was_ that person? What sort of world had he lived in to underestimate omegas so much? Two of the seven Knights of Ren were omegas, and they managed to do such feats as overthrowing governments, assassinating undesirables and gathering enemy intel. Just like the other knights.
> 
> He wanted to say something, but by the time he pulled himself together Hux was already gone, the only reminder of his presence being the snap of a door closed shut upstairs. 
> 
> Sighing, he went outside on a small veranda and sat down in lotus position. He tried to meditate, wondering whether there was someone out there who could offer him counsel on this matter. Once upon a time he would’ve tried to reach out to his uncle. Now he was on his own and it felt stifling. 
> 
>  
> 
> As soon as Hux woke up, he went immediately to the bathroom. It was slowly becoming his routine. A leaking omega, unable to control his own body. Perhaps it was for the better that Kylo Ren had wrestled the leadership of the First Order out of his hands. Who would’ve followed someone like him?
> 
> _NO!_ He chided himself, digging his fingernails into the flesh of his thighs and dragging, leaving bright red marks behind. _He_ was the master of his body, not the other way around. Spine of steel, voice of brass. He turned the temperature of the shower down and wiped at his running nose. He was who he was because of what was inside, and by that he didn’t mean that damnable leaking, dilating, burning _apparatus_ of his. _‘Armitage Hux’_ was a label for this mind and memories, for knowledge, self-accountability, imagination, and so much else. Losing any of these parts would mean losing a bit of himself. Losing a leg or a lung meant nothing. That would be just damage to the vessel. 
> 
> He almost found himself agreeing with the droid. 
> 
> Maybe it _was_ the only solution to this problem. Sterilisation. But… no. That was a coward’s way. He was stronger than his biology. He _was_ stronger than his biology. 
> 
> He switched the water off only once he noticed his toes were turning blue. 
> 
> A new robe enveloped his shivering body. 
> 
> He grabbed a nutrition bar and went downstairs. 
> 
> Kylo Ren was there again. 
> 
> That man was an enigma. He could’ve easily overpowered him. In fact, Hux was pretty sure that one touch and his body would go pliant and putty in those strong hands. Yet he didn’t do anything. 
> 
> Hux wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t blind either. He knew that _that_ reaction inside the ollua surprised Ren even more than him. That Ren had been acting on instinct, which was elicited by Hux himself (or rather - his body). After all, he had seemed pretty damn set on punishing him for that silly mutiny-that-never-was. Now he knew the truth, however, and Hux couldn’t understand why didn’t Ren use it to make him bow deeper than ever before or oust him out of the Order altogether. Instead of doing either of those things or more, the alpha Supreme Leader of the First Order just sat in Hux’s temporary refuge like a kicked puppy. 
> 
> It was also possible he was completely disgusted by Hux himself. In fact, _more_ than possible. They always hated one-another and now they were forced in this situation by their respective anatomies. He was likely revolted by the way Hux rubbed against him like a bitch in heat. 
> 
> But that didn’t explain why he stayed. 
> 
> A fresh trickle of slick ran down Hux’s thigh. He mentally slapped himself. Thinking about the alpha would only make his condition worse. He marched out of the house and only then did he wiped his nose again. 
> 
>  
> 
> When he climbed out of the plunge pool towards the evening and wrapped himself in the towel, his teeth were chattering and he couldn’t feel his fingers or toes. He coughed, but didn’t let himself get distracted by the sound. A mild cold never killed anyone and he should’ve expected it. Spending most of one’s life in the sterile environment of a Star Destroyer did not make one particularly immune to diseases. 
> 
> His whole body was numb, which he took for a good sign. Maybe he _would_ get rid of this affliction. Just to make sure, he thought of the alpha back at the house. 
> 
> And there it was again. 
> 
> The heat, the wetness. 
> 
> Clenching his jaw, he glared at the ration bar that was supposed to be his only meal that day, then he grabbed it and tossed it away. He’ll show this treacherous body of his who’s the boss. 


	6. Caretaker//Slave

> Kylo slept badly, which was nothing new, really. 
> 
> In his dream, he was ‘chased’ by Skywalker and Lor San Tekka, who somehow gained up on him without taking a single step, indeed without moving at all. Eventually they caught him, because the faster he tried to run, the more his legs have melted. Korr Sella and Chewbacca then grabbed him and threw him in a fire. Each flame was one of Skywalker’s students. They danced in a nonsensical, ridiculous way as they burned, and their snapping teeth were the shards of broken transparisteel. His mother was there as well. She sat in front of him, on a torn-off wing of his crashed Silencer, bathing her bare feet in the fire as if it was the purest water. She was smiling.
> 
> Kylo woke up feeling sad and weary. 
> 
> He went to the kitchen to make himself another cup of strong caf. 
> 
> Hux came in as usual. He grabbed a ration bar and left, and just as he did, Kylo heard him cough. It was an ugly, dry sound. That… worried him. 
> 
> The day before he noticed Hux’s nose was running. Whatever was wrong with him didn’t get better. 
> 
> Kylo decided not to think about it, since there was nothing he could do anyway - not while he was hated, not when he only knew how to destroy - and used his free time to work on his meditation skills and practice sword swings. The peace felt nice. It provided him with the opportunity to slow down and pay attention to himself. His rage and anxiety, which were a constant on Star Destroyers, evaporated into nothing. 
> 
> As soon as his training was over, he went up to Hux’s bedroom and was met by vague disorder. The few things inside were all _just slightly_ out of place. The General’s scent hung heavy in the stale air, sickly and smelling of distress. Once he cracked the window open, Kylo decided to make his bed at the very least, taking care to wash his hands first and touch the bedding as little as possible. He noticed the washing machine’s cycle was finished, so he pulled the clean robe out and moved it into a dryer. 
> 
> He counted the ration bars. There was just one missing. Unless Hux found another source of food, he only ate one ration bar a day. And that was just bizarre. Who could survive on this little? But then he added that cough to the equation and Hux’s state of mind with it. 
> 
> The result was not pretty. 
> 
> For a moment he couldn’t but wonder whether he’s being rational and _why the hell should he butt in where he wasn’t wanted_ , but then he mounted his speeder bike and stretched his consciousness in order to find Hux. 
> 
> It didn’t take him long to arrive at a cascading river, broken up by a great number of waterfalls. The lowest one of them fell into a basin of crystal-clear water, surrounded by an impressive bulwark of basalt columns and a wide ring of dark green pillows of moisture-loving lichen. 
> 
> Hux stood naked under the waterfall, his back hunched, fists clenched. Even from the distance it was obvious how hard he shook from the cold. That charming colour of those cheeks was gone, replaced by a ghastly pallor more suited for a corpse. And nearby something glittered. It was the ration bar, wrapped in a tinfoil wrapper. Hux’s only food. Tossed away. 
> 
> Just as Kylo dismounted from his bike, Hux was overcome by a particularly violent bout of cough, which sent him on his hands and knees. 
> 
> Kylo rushed to his side. As soon as he entered the pool, its chill bit into his legs. He dislodged it out of his bones using the force, waded through the water to reach Hux, and dragged him out. The General started to cough again, doubling over, his fingers biting into the meat of his palms. When he finally took a breath, the sound it made was of the ugly, wheezing kind. 
> 
> “Hux. What the hell.” Kylo said as he steadied the man. 
> 
> “…’m fine.” Hux managed to choke out. 
> 
> Kylo held him throughout another fit. The General’s body was hot, but it was not that alluring heat from before. This was a fever. 
> 
> “Hux. You are not fine. You are sick.” 
> 
> This statement earned him a pale blue glare. 
> 
> “ _Of course_ I am.” Hux snapped, eyes aglitter. “That’s only natural, right? For an omega to be _infirm_ , to _get ill_.”
> 
> “So what are you doing, standing under freezing water?”
> 
> Hux suddenly jumped up on his feet and tried to push him away. 
> 
> “ _Let me be! Kriff off! No one wants you here! Why are you here anyway? You’re supposed to be with the Order! You need to lead them! There are hundreds of other omegas who’d happily spread for you, if that’s what you want. Just leave me the hell alone!”_
> 
> This speech drained him off the rest of his energy. Hux stumbled and would’ve fallen to the ground, if it wasn’t for Kylo. All fight had left him at that point. Kylo could therefore throw his cloak over those narrow shoulders and hoist the man up. He carried him to the bike and drove him as quickly as possible back to the house. Hux’s back was pressed against his front during the short ride, so every time he coughed, Kylo cloud feel how deep the illness was seated. 
> 
> By the time they’ve reached the house, Hux was more or less asleep. Kylo carried him up to his bedroom, tucked him in and put a cold compress on his forehead. 
> 
> Then he prepared for his meditation-
> 
> -only to stop as he realised how _stupid_ he was. 
> 
> Meditating while Hux was sick? Keeping quiet about his worries? Since when did he become so cowardly? Force was not going to help him out of _that_ one. Hux was clearly not thinking straight and from what Kylo had seen in his memories, it was no wonder. So it was up to him. He… 
> 
> ….he could no longer see the General as an enemy, as a lifeless concept known as ‘ _the rival’_. He had to help, even if Hux would hate him for that. The pride of the man, his haughtiness, the need to carry on even when everyone else expected him to fold or break – he himself knew these traits much too well, and he couldn’t help but admire them on Hux. 
> 
> Throwing his own coat over the ginger in addition to the blanket, he silently closed the door and went down to the kitchen. There he turned the stove on, placed a pot on top and poured some oil in. As it heated up, he grabbed a shoulder of nerf and sliced it into neat juliennes. The first ones to fry were the onions though, and only once they became glassy and pinkish did he add the meat. He watched it turn brown on all sides, and then he poured in some Umbaran traminer, followed by a pint of bantha bouillon. He also threw in some diced toona root and peeled wellta bulbs, which gave the meal a hint of sweetness, and the crushed pulp of oll’otta leaves, fragrant and light. As a side dish he prepared seeds of the local tukka grass. 
> 
> Then he woke Hux up. The General followed him downstairs, too sleep-drunk to care. Kylo knew that a wakeful Hux would never let himself be manoeuvred like this, so he subtly used the force to keep him this way. Hux’s body desperately needed nutrition. They both sat down at the table, but it was far from being a pleasant affair. Hux shoved food into his mouth like a zombie, his eyes glassy, features slack, while Kylo was too guilt-ridden to look up from his plate. Once he made sure the General was well-fed, he brought him back to his bed. 
> 
> He had hoped the General would spend the rest of the night asleep, but fortune was not on his side that evening. A couple of hours later the door slammed open and Hux marched in. Looking rather like an enraged nexu. 
> 
> _“ **Never** do that again. If you do, I’ll…”_ he growled and paused, his hair almost bristling. The hair, which was now matted by sweat. Kylo thought of how wonderful it had looked those few days ago when he first spied Hux. 
> 
> “Or you’ll _what?_ ” he answered calmly, raising an eyebrow. 
> 
> Hux was silent for a while, red patches of anger jumping up on his cheeks. His eyes flashed as he made two steps towards Kylo. 
> 
> “Why _the hell_ are you even here? You’ve already made sure there is no conspiracy and that I am, in fact, alone. So why are you still here? Don’t you have a hundred and one better things to do? You hate me, yet you drag me out of the water and _force_ -feed me dinner. Is that to show me that you are much more irrational than I ever gave you credit for? Or are you here just to see me act like a pathetic little omega? Why are you here? What do you want?”
> 
> Kylo shuffled his feet. He tore his gaze away from Hux. 
> 
> Yes. That was entirely true. There was no need for him to stay there. He had better things to do. He hated Hux – or at least he used to. This had been one of the few constants remaining in Kylo’s life. Hux was a loud, smug bastard, whose sharp elbows shoved more than few of his rivals under the proverbial Jawan sand transporter. He had nothing to live for but his work and Kylo had often remarked to other Knights that the General was probably humping stacks of expense reports at night, considering the smirk he always wore when he passed them over to Kylo. 
> 
> “You. I need you to get better. We both know you have a tighter grasp on the military than I. You know the ins and outs of the Order - and you always put it first.”
> 
> Hux seemed to be taken aback by this answer. 
> 
> “Well, it’s _you_ who put me in this state.”
> 
> “For that I apologise. Had I known you are an omega-“
> 
> “Then _what?_ “ Hux snapped, leaving the answer unsaid but present. 
> 
> “What do you think?” Kylo snapped right back, his patience thinning out. “Do you think that I’d discharge you just for not being an alpha? Do you think that just because I am one I have to bed any omega I see? What the stars do you think of me, Hux? I have self-restraint; _yes_ , even _I_. Besides, I would _not_ sleep with you.” He said and immediately realised how harsh that sounded. “Because… uh… that’s because of the things I saw.”
> 
> “What did you see?” Hux narrowed his eyes.
> 
> “It’s not like I wanted to. The force just shows me these images at times. I saw a bunch of omegas dressed in these garish clothes, and then you and your father and a surgical droid.”
> 
> “ _Hah!_ ” Hux let out a bark of laughter, followed by a bout of cough. “You… so you don’t want to sleep with me… because you think I’m some poor, traumatised little victim?”
> 
> This answer took Kylo by surprise.
> 
> “Well… yes. After all in all those years you haven’t-… at least I think.”
> 
> There was no point in lying, but saying what he really meant was not exactly easy. 
> 
> Hux gave him a mild frown and then he sat down. His anger was all but gone, but this time he didn’t look tired one bit. His back was straight and he held his shoulders proud; even in the midst of his heat, when all most omegas cared about was a good pounding. _Really, the most extraordinary of them all_ , said the small voice in Kylo’s head. Even his three omegan knights. They were vicious, tricky and great manipulators. But this level of magnificence, this went far beyond biology. 
> 
> “If you think I came _here_ to spend my heat because of some bad things which have transpired years ago, you are _wrong_.” 
> 
> “If that’s the case, why won’t you find a mate or a simple hook-up and make things easier on yourself?”
> 
> Hux shot him a haughty, cold look (which Kylo could bathe in, really). 
> 
> “ _I’m_ the master of my biology. Not the other way around. “
> 
> Kylo was prepared to say something, but that answer stunned him. Did he really hear right? Because if he did... 
> 
> “So; you spend the first heat you allowed yourself to have dunking yourself in cold water… because _you_ are the master of your biology.”
> 
> “Exactly.” Hux glared at him as if he wanted to challenge him. 
> 
> Kylo paused. He needed to tread carefully and not burst out laughing as was his first intent. Because when he thought about it, it was rather sad. 
> 
> “You are a fool. And what’s worse, you are a stubborn fool. One, who is currently endangering his own health to prove a point.”
> 
> “ _You have no idea_ -“Hux shot back, but Kylo stopped him with a motion of his hand. The General held his tongue, but mostly because another series of dry coughs shook his body. 
> 
> “You think I don’t? You know very little about these matters. Anyhow, the way you are going about it only makes you a bigger _slave_ to your biology than most omegas. You know why? You go through such lengths to suppress your heat, your instincts. You stand in freezing water. You withhold proper nutrition from your body. You got sick. You’ve even left your flagship. You see, if _you_ were the master, you’d just let your heat happen and get over it. You’d find an alpha, a beta, or whatever toy you fancy, you’d satisfy your urges within a few days and then you would get on with your life. If you were _the master_ of your biology, you wouldn’t _think twice_ about some heat.”
> 
> “And in light of what I’ve said before, don’t think I’m opposed to the thought of sleeping with you. You have no idea how desirable you look. I found you so even before I learned you were an omega. And I stood upwind. So handsome, and with that amazing hair of yours free of that kriffing gel. Finally you looked alive. If you ever wanted to use me, you wouldn’t have to ask twice. Think about that, General.”
> 
> And with that he excused himself out of the house. 
> 
> He needed some fresh air. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> A little supplementary info-doodle as a small thank-you for Mesmeret, noslip, MsModernity, do_it_to_julia, and everyone who liked the worldbuilding and/or lichens.


	7. Trapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to post yesterday as it was national holiday here. I wanted to do a lot of stuff, actually, but I've slept through most of the day with one hell of a headache. At least I've managed to make some pancakes...

> Hux stared at the empty space left behind Kylo Ren. He was at a loss of word and thought alike. 
> 
> He stood there for so long, it began to feel awkward. He had to brew himself some tea just so he’d give his hands had something to do, added a dash of brandy to the amber liquid, and headed out, taking the whole bottle with him after brief consideration. 
> 
> Just behind his little house, in a narrow space between its wall and an ancient oak overgrown with silvery blue fruticose lichen, there was a nest wedged in there. A nest that was alive. Its floor was a soft patchwork of deep green moss and yellowish sphagnum and walls were formed by knobbly roots of the tree, cushioned by velvety tufts of short horsetails. Strands of stringy lichen hung low from the oaken branches and were so thick, they formed something akin to a baldachin. 
> 
> Hux scoffed at the idea of nests. He had no idea what made them so damn special compared to beds. He didn’t desire sitting in one, but he needed the relative privacy this one provided, especially as it was flanked by particularly wild, high-grown bushes of sautavva, which gave off a myrrh-like scent. 
> 
> Scent.
> 
> Hux could still smell it. 
> 
> Ren. 
> 
> On him. 
> 
> He frowned and slowly sank down, careful not to spill his tea. 
> 
> He…
> 
> No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t deny Ren’s words. Which meant _he_ was wrong. 
> 
> _But that-_
> 
> No. He _was_ wrong. 
> 
> No matter which way he looked at it, what Ren suggested was both time and energy efficient. He knew that being in heat didn’t mean he _had_ to end up with a child, he wasn’t _that_ ignorant, but if having intercourse was the most obvious course of action (and it was - even doctor Torsta tried to steer him this way), why didn’t _he_ think of that? 
> 
> He pictured himself. An omega in heat, reclining in a nest. Waiting for an alpha to… do what? _Shower you with kisses? Tell you that you matter? Pet your head and then bury his nose between those ridiculous bubble cheeks of yours?_ -a snide voice answered. 
> 
> Hux turned red. Usually he’d leave it at that and concentrate on worthier topics, but that day, those words Ren said… for the first time he _actually thought_ about all these useless things. 
> 
> What made him consider them wrong in the first place? 
> 
> He had always thought he’d show them one day. Everyone. And once he would, they would start to appreciate and cherish him. But now that he was faced with the prospect of being treated halfway decent, he… though it to be beneath him? Why? Didn’t he agonise just a few days back that he was no robot? 
> 
> For the first time in his life he looked at himself with a complete and utter bafflement. 
> 
> He sipped at his tea. That time in the maw of the ollua, he… it actually felt wonderful. Ren’s touch, so full of urgency, his chest, his fingers, his breath… it felt as if for the first time in his life Hux had found a pillar to lean on after a long, tiring journey; a shade in the midst of a vast desert. And the feeling grew stronger the more vividly he remembered Ren’s scent, those soft kisses on his exposed shoulder. 
> 
> His member began to rise to attention. 
> 
> Hux frowned at it, closed his legs, uncorked the bottle and took a swing from it. 
> 
> Did this make him a _‘cock-sleeve’_? A _‘broodmare’_?
> 
> He had seen the holos back then, in his student years. Everyone had. The ones with omegas that moaned and panted and smiled at the camera in spite of being covered by gobs of semen, in spite of being slapped so hard their faces were red, lips split and eyes swollen from tears. The other cadets had pleasured themselves to these vids and sitting next to them, he felt like an alien. 
> 
> But then again, he also saw a fair share of holovids with betas being abused, and even alphas dominated. The latter group was especially valued among some audiences. It seemed that many people took a great joy in seeing an alpha beaten bloody and taken roughly from behind.
> 
> In other words, the galaxy was sick. It needed order. And in order to provide it, he needed to have a clear head and a strong body. 
> 
> He finished his tea, put the empty cup aside, and drank another few gulps of the brandy. The world was full of the sick and the suffering, of the abandoned. New Republic provided the people with so much freedom, it left many uprooted, without anyone to lean on, without an order they could respect and trust. It preached freedom and stability even though both of these concepts were mutually almost excludable. In order to find stability, people had to be supported by something. They needed guidance. 
> 
> And he needed to get stronger. 
> 
> He had to do something about this body of his. 
> 
> _Stop fearing it_. -a little voice said at the back of his mind. 
> 
> This startled him. He… no, he didn’t _fear_ his body. How could one even do that? He was just… at odds with it. Sometimes. He had to reclaim his control over it. 
> 
> He looked at his knees, parted for the sake of comfort. He focused on the space between them, covered by the thin fabric of the robe. As this nest was in the lee of the house, the air was very still and he could clearly feel the heat radiating from his body. He let go of the bottle and let it roll to the side. His fingers took hold of the grey cloth and pulled at it, hiking it up. 
> 
> He looked away. 
> 
> His left fingertips brushed against the skin of his thigh. He let them travel up and down, giving his body time to adjust as shudders ran down his spine. It’s not like he never touched himself, but doing so during a heat was a first. It felt very different. 
> 
> He kept at it for a while, drawing the figure ‘8’ with his fingers, and then moved to the inside of his thigh. 
> 
> He bit his lip to keep a moan from escaping, but he couldn’t stop his back from arching or knees from spreading even further apart. He gasped for breath and closed his eyes shut. The point of contact changed from the tips of his fingers to their pads, and then the whole palm. Was the skin of his inner thigh always so soft? It felt as if his sense of touch was sharpened. He could feel the fine hairs growing there, the muscles underneath, veins pumping heated blood. 
> 
> Then the hand moved again. 
> 
> As it touched the base of his stiff manhood, the softest, breathiest of moans finally escaped Hux’s throat. The throat, which he displayed as if the approaching evening could birth a lover who would shower its white skin with kisses. His slick ran thick and hot. It soaked into the ever-thirsty moss, into the fertile soil beneath. 
> 
> The same gingerly touches, which had first caressed the thigh, now went up and down his shaft. At times they travelled lower to gather some lubrication only to return, their movements more and more feverish. Once he felt the first bead of fluid form on the tip of the wetly glistening glans, his hand enclosed the shaft entirely. 
> 
> By then Hux was on his back. His legs were spread salaciously wide while his right wrist covered his eyes. The upper part of his robe was still closed unlike the lower, which exposed every inch of his damp skin to the evening chill. It clung to his lower back, wet with sweat and slick. 
> 
> His breath begun to speed up in synch with his motions and he was too caught up in the moment to pay much attention to its shortness or odd sounds. 
> 
> His back arched again while the fingers of his free hand moved to grasp at the moss. His posterior begun to move back and forth on its own and Hux felt as if he was washed over by wave after wave of some warm, sweet ocean, when-
> 
> _What a great picture you make, you omega whore._ -spat Brendol Hux out when he once walked in on his son pleasuring himself. Armitage had just managed to cover himself, hearing father’s entrance at the last second, but not enough for his doings not to be obvious. 
> 
> He expected a good trashing, but father just shot him a look full of contempt, snorted with derision and left, slamming the door. 
> 
> Hux snapped out of it only to find himself in the gloom of a late evening. He was cold. The heat from before vanished, perhaps into the ground. The same ground, whose gravity was slowly attracting the splodges of his milky white semen. Hux could _just_ see it in the late twilight. 
> 
> _Like vomit._
> 
> He pulled himself up, wrapped the robe as tight around his shivering body as possible, and stumbled inside the house, his feet having grown numb from the evening chill. As soon as he took a lungful of the warm air inside, he burst into a violent cough which he tried to stifle in order not to attract Ren’s attention. He tried to go upstairs to his bedroom only for his forehead to hit something firm and soft. 
> 
> “Hux, you…”
> 
> “I just want to sleep.” Hux mumbled. 
> 
> “I…”
> 
> “Pl-… just let me go.” He added in barely more than a whisper. No matter how awful he felt, he would _not_ stoop to pleading. 
> 
> “No.” Ren replied, albeit in a soft tone. 
> 
> “Ren, I-“
> 
> “No, I can’t allow that. Not until you eat a proper meal and drink at least a litre of water. Hux, you… you look like hell warmed over. I think I should call a medic.”
> 
> “No. That’s just a price I pay for keeping it at bay for so long. Doctor… doctor Torsta warned me. I knew it would… ah… knew it would not be easy.” He panted, out of breath and energy. 
> 
> “So why? Why for so long?”
> 
> Hux forced himself to look up into Ren’s face. He suspected he’d find derision, but there was only confusion and sadness there. Ren’s eyes looked so soft and warm… he felt like they made his head much too light and legs too unsteady. 
> 
> “I serve the First Order. I must not let myself get distracted. I… I wouldn’t’ve made general at this age if… I slacked off… whenever I felt the urge.”
> 
> “That’s just wrong. Omega or not, you’re only human. We all are.”
> 
> “I know.” Hux nodded, giving Ren a broken smile. “But I… I…”
> 
> Somehow he forgot what he wanted to say. The world framing Ren’s head started to revolve in slow, hypnotic loops. His knees buckled and darkness took him before he even hit the floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofread while listening to Ulver's 'Shadows of the Sun'.


	8. Quiet House // Weird Fishes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Borrowed part of the chapter title from a Radiohead song. 
> 
> Also, there won't be an update next week, I'm afraid. Things are a bit hectic at work right now, which doesn't leave me much time to proofread. By that I do not mean to say that I do a bigger part of the proofreading at work. It's just what I'm implying.

> Hux dreamed
> 
> _He returned to the Supremacy which was intact and without a dent, every square inch gleaming. The face of every crew member shone with pride. They all saluted him as he walked by, their eyes bright and full of purpose. He was accompanied by his guard of honour, which was clad in grey and scarlet. Four on one side, four on the other, all bearing ceremonial glaives. They brought him to the throne room, but he couldn’t sit on his throne just yet. His uniform was stained by the blood of the Resistance._
> 
> _Servants began to pour in. Some undressed him while others cleaned his limbs. A separate group held his new clothes. But this… was wrong. First Order had no servants._
> 
> _Men and women fully disrobed him and clad him in his new vestments. But there must’ve been a mistake. Surely his garb wasn’t supposed to be vermillion and yellow and ruby. And that embroidery of purple and ultramarine flowers... Too ostentatious. Not his style at all._
> 
> _He tried to reach for his dirty uniform, but many pairs of hands grabbed him and pushed him inside the throne room. Only it wasn’t the throne room. It was a Flowergarden, full of giggling omegas in late stage of pregnancy, their bellies distended._
> 
> _“Welcome back!” they all sang in unison. “Let’s have you ready for another child!”_
> 
> _And behind them, there was a shadowy group of officers waiting._
> 
>  
> 
> When he came to, he was lying in his bed, wrapped in a fresh robe and covered by Ren’s coat. For some reason, though his body had rejected his own clothing, it seemed to be fine with Ren’s. _Traitor_ , he thought to himself sulkily. 
> 
> He sat up and looked out of the window. 
> 
> It was dark. 
> 
> Still or again, he did not know - there were no chronos in the room. 
> 
> His eyes were drawn to the crested cap, which hung from a hook on the wall as if to mock him. He’d never put it on while he was like this. Still, he longed to be properly dressed like the paragon of First Order officers that he was. _Just few more days; few more days_ , he sighed mentally. 
> 
> He looked at his hands. He had a dream - he was certain of that - but he couldn’t remember any details. Was it good? Was it bad? What a silly question. He never had any good dreams. The lingering malaise which clung heavy to his bones was a testament to that. Not that it meant anything, as only children and spineless weaklings were unnerved by something as non-threatening as _dreams_. He was not weak. He was not weak. He would get out of the bed and show this feeble shell of a body who’s the boss, and he would do so under the iciest shower possible. 
> 
>  
> 
> Kylo decided to work on his calligraphy that evening. 
> 
> It has been a while, but he suddenly got that itch again. Having neither any paper nor brushes to draw with, he found himself a slab of slate used for serving canapés, and brought it to the living room along with a cup of water. Then he sat down on the sofa-cum-bed, and sipping from his mug of strong, sweet caf, he dipped his finger into the water and wrote down the sign for _‘aahn’_. That meant ‘eve’ in Old Seirzhu, a long dead language he had started to learn because, well, because he used to be a teen who wanted to feel special. 
> 
> _‘Aahn’_ had four strokes, and when he added two more on either side, it turned into _‘sanq’_ \- night. A trio of dots then turned _‘sanq’_ into _‘aasanqa’_ , or ‘gloom’. The original ‘eve’ changed more and more. ‘Gloom’ was transformed into ‘a heavy dream’, which became ‘immobility’. Three more strokes and this turned further into ‘bedsores’. Two dots later these bedsores became ‘(silt) passing through’. When Kylo finally stopped at twenty-six strokes and ten dots, the initial _’aahn’_ turned into _‘dohsanqollospas’_ , or ‘sickness unto death’. Old Seirzhu was a strange language. 
> 
> Kylo sipped at his caf. A random look from the nearest window made him take his jacket off. One of Ascodita’s moons was high up, hazy and reddish. A harvest moon. It made him remember trips to the countryside, harvest celebrations and wreaths of corn, and this put him in a summery frame of mind. He cracked the window open and enjoyed how the easterly wind caressed his cheeks. Out of worry for the sleeping omega’s health he closed it again and returned to his sofa. He was in too mellow a mood to go out. Stretching his back, he looked up at the ceiling, at the lighting made out of preserved lichen apothecia. The light-bulbs in there gave off a soft, soothing glow which very much resembled mid-afternoon sunlight. Kylo sank into the soft cushions. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so comfortable. He rubbed his right shoulder, finding the touch reassuring. Strong muscles, strong bones. Far too often did force users rely only on their otherworldly abilities while neglecting their bodies. Snoke had said that most Jedis were omegas, and that the truly strong naturally gravitated towards the dark, but Kylo suspected there was more to it. In fact, the longer he thought about Snoke’s teachings, the more a big portion of them seemed like nothing but a pile of bantha-
> 
> His train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a thud. It came from upstairs. 
> 
> He jumped up and rushed to Hux’s room. 
> 
> As expected, he found the man on the floor. 
> 
> Kylo refrained from simply lifting him. Instead he grabbed him under his arms and let Hux get up (mostly) by himself. When he moved towards the bed, the omega dug his heels in. 
> 
> “…no. no bed.” He all but whispered. 
> 
> “Do you want to go downstairs then?” 
> 
> Hux nodded. 
> 
> Kylo wrapped his arm around the omega’s shoulders and helped him descend the stairs. He then deposited the ginger onto the sofa and returned to the bedroom to grab one of his blankets. Once he returned, he found Hux staring at the cold fireplace. 
> 
> As he wordlessly set off to grab a couple of logs and some kindling, he realised why he felt so comfy even though he had absolutely no reason to. 
> 
> He was taking care of another being. It didn’t matter whether it was an alpha or omega. He was actively trying to make someone feel better and for some reason this brought joy even to himself. It left him somewhat baffled, but the feeling was too special to undermine with unnecessary processing. 
> 
> Suddenly a spark of inspiration lit up in his mind.
> 
> He grabbed an iron utensil he had noticed before and shoved it in the fire, right on top of the coals. As it heated up, he retreated into the kitchen where he whisked some eggs with milk and melted butter. Once the mix was nice and fluffy, he sifted in two cups of flour with added baking powder. He chose to sweeten it with moist clumps of brown demerara sugar for its character, and after a bit of pondering he also added dried duun petals as well as some grated horra nut. The former had an amazing floral fragrance and the latter imparted a spicy, honey-like taste to the mix. He took great care in making sure the ingredients were all properly incorporated, stirring them with a ladle even as he returned to the fireplace. Putting the bowl aside, he pulled the iron out of the fire and opened it. The inside smoked gently, which meant it was just right. He poured some oil on it and followed it up with a ladle-full of the batter. It hissed as it touched the iron, which he quickly closed so not even one drop would escape. 
> 
> “…what are you doing?” a sleepy voice asked. 
> 
> “Waffles.”
> 
> “Waffles?”
> 
> “Hmm. Duun waffles.” Kylo replied, nodding, without turning around. 
> 
> There was a short pause. 
> 
> “What are waffles?”
> 
> “Well, they are a bit like hotcakes, only crispier.” He explained, trying to mask his initial hesitation. 
> 
> “And hotcakes are like cakes, but hot.”
> 
> “Not quite. They’re flat, though not as flat as pancakes.”
> 
> Kylo’s unusually heightened sense of empathy, which kinda-sorta connected him to Hux, caused him to pick up on the fact that the omega wasn’t exactly sure what pancakes were. And cakes he only imagined as colourful cylinders with some garish icing on top. 
> 
> He had wanted to top the waffles with jogan sauce and apple slices, but now he reconsidered. It might’ve been too much for the General, if he was only used to plain food. He decided to leave them as they were and served the first one to Hux, who gave the plate a look of doubt. 
> 
> “How do you even eat it? It’s piping hot.”
> 
> “You just blow at it. It’s not actually _that_ hot.”
> 
> Kylo gave his a couple of long, gentle blows, then took it in his fingers and bit into it. He realised that considering Hux’s physical state, he should’ve made semolina porridge or something similar, but for some reason waffles seemed like the only proper answer for the time being. 
> 
> Hux took a bird-bite. 
> 
> He paused, his face showing absolutely nothing, eyes still as dull as before. Then he took another. Those eyes then focused on Kylo just as he suspected they would. 
> 
> “Why are you doing this?”
> 
> He was prepared now. No fidgeting, just an answer worthy of an alpha. No. worthy of a human. 
> 
> “Because I’ve grown to like you.”
> 
> “Why is that?”
> 
> “Do you need a reason to like someone or something?”
> 
> “Yes.” Came the answer without missing a beat. 
> 
> “Then why do you like your tea? You could have any other. You could drink caf, since it’s stronger.” 
> 
> There was no answer this time. 
> 
> “You don’t need any reason to like things, I think. Or to dislike them. It just happens. Just happens.” He said, realising he sounded more petulant than he cared to. 
> 
> It was even worse when the network of his consciousness accidentally brushed against Hux’s. He didn’t catch any particular sentence or word, but the gist was clear. _There is no need for liking things where there is duty._
> 
> “…is it so much to you?” he muttered without meaning to.
> 
> “What?”
> 
> “The First Order. Do you serve it solely because you think it’s your duty? Don’t you find any joy in it at all?” 
> 
> When he didn’t get an answer for a while, he turned around. Hux stared at him with wide eyes and the expression of sheer bewilderment. 
> 
> “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that. Just ignore it.”
> 
> “No, I _do_ love the Order!” Hux exclaimed in a panicked tone, as if Kylo was about to execute him for treason. “I _enjoy_ being part of it. Really. I do.” He added and this time an image flashed through Kylo’s mind. 
> 
> Hux in his twenties, sitting behind a workbench and creating a supremely complicated series of drafts, while being surrounded by a whole swarm of holos. His eyes were alight, and though there were several empty kettles of caf lying around, and though an ugly brownish bruise mottled his left cheek, every now and then a boyish smile blossomed on his lips. 
> 
> “…yes. You really do.” Kylo mumbled. 
> 
> “What are you planning to do to me?” Hux asked, his tone detached once again. 
> 
> Kylo bit the inside of his lip. He almost wanted to say that he was going to breed the man like a wild sneep in heat just to get _some_ kind of reaction out of him that wasn’t a dispassionate or panicked stare, but he held his temper. 
> 
> “I’ll-“he bit his tongue. He almost said he would take care of the omega, but it was clear as day that hearing this would _not_ make the General happy. And Kylo didn’t _really_ want to rile him up. At least not _just yet_. Not when every angry outburst to cost him so much energy. He realized he had to handle this… uh… _diplomatically_. His alpha side gnashed its teeth and huffed. “I’ll stay here until you… decide it’s time to go. There is no medic anywhere in the near vicinity and your supplies aren’t meant to deal with a weakened organism. Besides, it’s a good opportunity for me to take some time off as well. So I’ll just stay here. And meditate. And cook. And things.” 
> 
> He fell silent and busied himself with another waffle. 
> 
> From the corner of his eye he saw Hux frown ever so slightly. 
> 
> “I knew I’d have to deal with this… _condition_ sooner or later. I’ve put it off for as long as I could. I wanted to spend it on my own so no one would know of this indignity.”
> 
> “I know.”
> 
> “Yes, you do. Now.”
> 
> “But Hux. There is nothing _undignified_ about that.” He said and turned around, a pan in one hand, thongs in the other. “Three of my Knights are omegas. When it’s their time, they just say so, excuse themselves for a couple of days and take a shore leave or coop up with one of the crewmembers.”
> 
> “Crewmembers? _My crew_?” Hux asked, sounding almost scandalised.
> 
> “Uh… yes…”
> 
> “Who?”
> 
> “Does it matter?”
> 
> “Yes. I just wonder who would be so bold as to bed a Knight.”
> 
> Kylo sniggered. 
> 
> “A woman, called… Unamo, I believe, then one of the stormtrooper captains.”
> 
> “Hm. Well, your knights have it easy. They can just go and request assistance. Because they have the force, they are Knights before they are omegas. Any opposition, any slander, any attempts to have them-… to make them-… any attempts to _box them in_ , and anyone stupid enough to attempt that would find themselves on the floor, choking on their own blood. They don’t have to stuff themselves full of meds. They don’t have to pretend they’re above those- I mean, they can rely on their own strength.” 
> 
> Kylo registered a spark of embarrassment from the man. Did he almost say he _was not_ above those urges? The alpha within Kylo wagged its tail. 
> 
> But he ignored it. 
> 
> “Hux. What are you talking about? You are a kriffing general. You are the General. If anyone would try to harm you-“
> 
> “No. You don’t understand.” Hux said with a voice so pained, Kylo had to glance up at him. The ailing General was clutching the blanket and there was a haunted look in his eyes. “What I meant to say was - your Knights rely on _their own_ strength. My strength is within my crew, within the Order itself. If they would stop believe in me, if they would turn their backs, I’d be _nothing_.”
> 
> “Surely you don’t-“
> 
> “No. Please. Stop talking. I just… need to be alone.” 
> 
> Without waiting for Kylo to leave, Hux rolled over and pulled the blanket over his head. 
> 
> And Kylo stood there at a complete loss of words. 
> 
>  
> 
> Several moments later he found himself sitting on the veranda and staring into the darkness punctuated by the ethereal glow of funnel-like lichens. Through the force he could feel those little three-legged creatures from before frolic around and some oversized moths drift through the air above. Everything was a celebration of life, only the house behind him felt like a morgue. 
> 
> Or maybe an aquarium. 
> 
> No. 
> 
> The bottom of an ocean. 
> 
> Hux reminded him of those oddly-shaped, oddly-proportioned creatures he had seen pictures of a long time ago on Naboo. He was told they were marine creatures who lived in depths of over ten kilometres. That they were perfectly adapted to a world with no natural light and with a pressure so crushing, it would turn even durasteel into a ball of crumpled metal. But strangely enough, once someone would try to remove them from the hell of their natural environment and take them to the world above, they would turn inside-out and explode - or something like that. 
> 
> Those pale fish with their eyes too bright and skin too dainty and fair. 
> 
> It didn’t make sense. 
> 
> The universe was mad. 
> 
> Kylo started to nibble at the last waffle he held in his hand. It was almost burnt, but he didn’t even notice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	9. Balneary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No lichen doodle this time. Sorry. The heat is just sapping the energy out of me, and though watermelon helps, there's just not enough of it. There is a secondary author to this chapter, and the author is Wishful Thinking.

When Hux woke up, he felt heat within his body. Not _the_ heat; just a simple fever. He had experienced countless similar ones and a couple so debilitating, many had taken him for a goner. That was back then, when he was barely a cadet. The fleet, stationed in the Unknown Regions, had lacked so many resources, a full quarter of the sub-adults died of starvation or various pandemics. The few times he had seen father back then, he noticed an expectant, almost hungry look in his eyes. 

They all had it. All of them. 

All. 

Even now, there were still some remaining. The resentful ones - Peavey and Canady. And Pryde, who _knew_. Who had tried to barter contacts, glitterstim, and old Sith relics in exchange for one weedy cadet named Armitage. Father had refused, but only out of fear that the truth of his son’s condition would spread and put _him_ in a bad light. 

And while all that was happening, those old, burnt-out alphas had taken their pleasures freely and without hesitation. Without a twinge of shame. Indeed, it seemed that _shame_ was something reserved mostly for omegas. Unscrupulous satisfaction was a very alphan concept, while betas, by far the most numerous of the three groups, sort of drifted between the two. 

Armitage sat up. 

He realised something as important as it was disturbing. 

While he was trying to survive, to become someone to be admired, to be lauded as the one true herald of a new order, somewhere along the way someone or something made him connect these goals with shame, self-hate and repression. 

Back then he was sad that father thought so little of him. He hadn’t resented _being_ an omega. So what had happened? And why? How did he come to see this as normal? 

He heaved a sigh. Poring over these topics and questioning himself was starting to get too bothersome for the little he got out of it. And there was the question of last night as well. 

No matter how odd it was, Ren actually showed patience and restraint. And instead of grabbing this opportunity, Hux fell into another one of those gloomy spells of his. He went through far too many as of late. It was unbecoming. He should’ve made an effort to be at least civil to Ren. To have a normal conversation with the man. One which wouldn’t revolve around their secondary genders for once. 

He slowly swung his legs down from the sofa, placed his hands on the armrest and stood up, testing his strength. Since he didn’t crumble to the ground like a wet tissue, he tried walking. His head felt a bit too light, but nothing which would send him crashing down.

He headed towards the kitchen. He wasn’t planning to apologize - that man had done him too much wrong for a few days’ worth of change to erase it. But he could see himself having a conversation or two.

_‘Good morning’_. Yes, he could start with that. He could start that conversation with a _‘good morning’_. ‘Good morning’ made one think about the weather. One of them might be inclined to comment on it, about the objective temperature and/or the amount of clouds. Ren would perhaps compare it to weather on other planets, while he could proceed by listing pros and cons of controlled atmosphere. 

He entered the kitchen- 

-only to find it empty. 

The smell of caf was still in the air, but only as a faint, cold ghost. Hux pressed his lips together. 

Then he noticed a tray covered with a napkin. 

Removing it revealed a thermos of caf, a plate of waffles and a syringe with a clear liquid. 

And a note on a flimsi.

_Decided to go out. Will be back before dark. Found you some bacta. Use it.  
R. _

When Hux read the message, a tiniest of frowns pulled at the corners of his mouth. 

He didn’t spare neither the caf nor the waffles as much as a glance, but the bacta was useful. He took the syringe and covered the rest with a napkin once more. Without further ado he shot it in his vein, not even flinching at the sting. 

He went up to his bedroom, his feet dragging, hands holding tight onto the railing. Once he reached it, he pulled the bedding down and made himself comfortable on the floor. The pillow propped against the nightstand supported his back rather pleasantly, and so he sunk into the blue-coloured softness, hugging his knees to his chest. 

It was raining outside - but it had also gotten warmer. 

From his window he could see the spreading oak and the silver-blue lichens of its boughs, which somehow retained their fluffiness in spite of all the water falling from sky. Hux stared at the way leaves were glimmering under the impacts of myriads of raindrops, watched curtains of these drops as they distorted the view, observed the way their volleys made those ancient boughs move in a slow, dignified way. He liked the way rain blurred the outlines of everything it touched and how its drone sounded even through the glass. When he put his hand against the windowpane, the glass fogged up around it after few moments. This was a feature transparisteel did not possess, and he found it rather enigmatic (if easily explained). 

He tugged the blanket closer to his body. 

He felt his fever starting to fade, but there was no slick to stain the fabric just yet. His body was most likely too dehydrated to produce it, but this he noticed just as a matter of fact. 

He had to think of Arkanis. 

Sitting like this evoked memories of similar situations. Memories of spending lazy Sundays… ah yes. Buried in his pillow fort, of course. The one he made from the cushions of his mother’s threadbare sofa. He had also watched the rain back then. And the sea. And he imagined becoming a sailman like the brave men and women from the olden days, when repulsors were a novelty and people used nothing but the wind and sea currents to get around. Mother sometimes sat there with him and told him stories of wondrous creatures of the deep and people who were half men, half fish, as her scarred fingers stroked his head in an unhurried fashion. He could almost remember how nice her hair smelled. 

He realised that good days were never bound to last and that it was the hardships what made him grow into a man, but he still couldn’t help but feel resentful at how abruptly they’ve ended. 

Since then the times when he felt comfortable around other people were few and far in-between - and grew even fewer as he neared his unattainable goal. And it was even worse with physical contact with several noticeable exceptions - that one heavenly time when Grand Admiral Sloane carded her fingers through his hair. When Professor Serrica patted his head after he did particularly well during one of their extracurricular sessions. When Veers Jr. lightly and inconspicuously bumped his fist after he had destroyed his first Free Planets Guild frigate. When Doctor Torsta massaged his back, stiff and painful after too many hours spent standing ramrod straight with full gear stacked on his back. 

Eventually he started to feel antsy, and so he got up. He made the bed, then made a quick trip to the kitchen just to grab a jug of water, and back at his room he poured himself a cup and sat behind the table. He decided to read more about his surroundings in order to find something to do or somewhere to go. He left his datapad back on the _Finalizer_ , not trusting himself to come up with anything reasonable whilst under the influence of the heat. Now he regretted it, but alas - what’s done was done. 

Then he found it. 

It seemed perfect, and was actually just a short trip ahead. 

Hux packed the few necessary items and was about to leave, but then he thought better of it and wrote Ren a short message, so the alpha wouldn’t worry again. 

_I went for a short trip. I shall be back before too long, so there is no need to look for me.  
H. _

He placed the note next to Ren’s and left with the bag of _‘supplies’_ slung over his shoulder. 

By then the rain turned into a drizzle, and since his speeder was parked right next to the house, there was no need for a raincoat. 

Turning the engine on and setting off, he watched as drops of water zigzagged down the transparisteel windshield. Visibility was low due to a fog, so he had to make use of the system navigation, but at least it provided him with interesting views of the landscape with its evertorches glowing eerily in a sea of grey haze. He almost felt bad that the journey was over within two or three minutes. 

He stopped in the middle of a grassy plain, next to a high stone arch overgrown with moss and red-leaved creepers. This structure, along with a thin blue railing, marked the location of a large black fissure perhaps fifty metres long and ten metres wide. On the other side of the arch was a stairway leading into its dark depths. 

Hux parked the speeder next to the arch, got out, and carefully descended into the chasm. 

From above it looked pitch black, but once inside, he noticed it was lit by several types of bioluminescent lichens and mosses, which created tiny but surprisingly lush gardens on the limited space of numerous protrusions in the dark stone walls. The bases of these gardens were typically formed by carpets of pale-green fruticose lichens, which nurtured their more energy-demanding cousins such as tiny, cave-growing versions of sun lichen, tufts of strange moss shaped like creeping, fuzzy stars, tiny trees of sphagnum, and light blue podetia of lesser matchsticks. And all of this shone with a soft, gentle glow. 

It smelled of water and damp rock in there, but the most noticeable scent was emanated by the omnipresent lichens and mosses. Combined together, they created a refreshing fragrance not quite floral, but rather like tea. Yes. It resembled his favourite Tarine tea a little bit. 

Step by step he went deeper and deeper, until he reached the bottom. 

There wasn’t much in the way of a floor - just a wooden walkway firmly affixed to the walls. Its width was about one metre - enough space to sit or lie down, but not enough to do much else. Just below it was a pool of water, lit up by columns of bioluminescent water plants with a passing semblance to kelp. They produced enough light for Hux to see that the actual bottom was much deeper, at the end of a fissure splitting blocks of flat rock. There were no plants that deep underwater, so Hux could admire the colour gradient of the pool - cerulean blue around the edges, pitch black in the centre. 

He took his clothes off and slowly climbed a short ladder down into the water. It was warm. The spring reached deep in the bowels of the ground. He took a seat on one of the smooth blocks, leaned against a backrest upholstered with lumigel, and stretched his legs out towards the centre of the pool. The current of warm water brushed gently against his toes and before he knew it, a school of tiny fish appeared and began to nibble at him. It was a bit disconcerting at first, but he calmed down after all he felt was a tickle. 

Submerged up to his neck, he leaned back and closed his eyes. He could hear nothing but the melody of condensed moisture dripping through the planks of the walkway into the water below, softly accompanied by the rustle of the grass above. Every now and then a gust of cool breeze found its way inside and brushed against his cheeks in a most pleasant way. 

Due to the bacta he had injected himself with, the fever slowly let up, vacating the space for his heat. It, however, did not descend upon him like the doom on Malachor. Instead it was a gradual shift, which felt as if his body soaked up the warmth of the very spring. 

Hux further relaxed against the inclinable backrest. 

He felt soft and pliant. Not in the disgustingly overripe fruit kind of way from before, but rather like one of those glowing kelp columns, drifting gracefully in the upward current of the spring. 

He pushed himself off, and soon he drifted as well. It didn’t take long and he reached the centre of the pool, which he could tell by the tingle of its current against his back. The more he relaxed, the less he was aware of the boundary between his body and the water. The tingle was soothing and the mouths of the tiny fish nibbling at his dead skin turned into reassuring touches. 

After a while he opened his eyes. The contrast between the light of the sky above and the relative gloom of the cave made him unable to see anything else for a moment, but slowly his eyes adjusted and he could watch cascades of drops, falling from both the damp rock and the clouds high above. It started to rain again. 

Eventually he climbed out of the water, and wrapped in a large, fluffy towel, he nibbled on a ration bar. The school of those troglobitic fish kept whirling just under the surface in search of him. The surface, which rippled with spreading circles of fallen raindrops. He watched their interference pattern with such interest, he finished the bar without even knowing. Then he pulled a long, thin bottle of tonic from his bag. He poured himself a cup and slipped back into the water. Though the tonic’s alcohol content was low, it nevertheless lit a small furnace in his stomach. Longing to stretch his body a bit, he started to swim in slow, powerful strokes. He admired the way his hands split the water. 

He wished he could split the Resistance just as easily. 

Yes. 

Stir up the stale water of the New Republic. 

With a new weapon. 

He looked at the fish and dove after them in a moment of levity. 

_A new weapon_ , he thought to himself once he emerged. _Not a big one, which is too easy a target. No, something more difficult to destroy, much like these fish. Just like they are splitting the water, it would split the Resistance._

His mind stilled for a moment as he swam back and forth. 

And then it all came together. These fish. Raindrops. Interference of circular patterns. Echo of the cave. Light and darkness. Crests and troughs. 

If his new weapon was meant to _split_ , it should do so on the most basic of levels. 

A covalence splitter. 

He swam ashore for another cup of tonic. 

It made the warmth return, this time accompanied by a familiar tension in his abdomen. 

Without thinking too much, he climbed up and lay down on his back with his knees bent over the walkways’ edge, feet submerged in water. He pulled the towel over his torso, brushed his fingers against his stiff manhood and took the shaft in his hand. He recalled those soft touches from before and imagined they were caused by a human hand. Frustratingly enough, Ren’s face kept appearing in front of his mind’s eye. Eventually he sighed in resignation and sped up the motions. 

It wasn’t as if the alpha could see or even sense him there. 

His back arched as he climaxed with a breathy moan, and when he slipped into the water, it enveloped his heated skin like a swath of cool silk. He felt cleaner. Magnificently purer. A serene kind of calm enveloped him, yet he could think clearer than he remembered. When he returned onto the walkway, he just laid there cocooned in the towel for a while, content with simply _being_. Then it started to rain again and he decided it was time to head back. 

He was tempted to return afoot, but the rain was fairly dense, and besides - what about his speeder? 

A couple of minutes later he left the vehicle in its narrow garage masked as a part of the hill and returned back inside. He wondered whether Ren would give him one of _those_ looks followed by fussing.

But Ren was not back yet. 

Hux coughed a little, grabbed another towel for his hair and went to sit in the living room. After a moment he went upstairs to fetch a flimsi and a stylus. That idea he had was too good to pass up. 

He didn’t start the draft with a sketch but with an equation. Energy required, energy gained, adaptable interference patterns spreading in a geometric sequence limited only by the energy provided. A minute accelerator connected to a series of lenses. Which material should he use? Kyber crystals? He wrote himself a note in the corner to check his old research of chromatic aberration of various minerals. 

His stomach growled. 

Not wanting to be distracted by these energy demands, he made a quick trip to the kitchen, where he grabbed the plate of waffles and the caf. 

Perhaps…. perhaps he ought to go one step beyond destroying covalence bonds and make the splitter’s use more… _universal_ , so not only durasteel, plastoid or cortosis, but even shields wouldn’t stand a chance. He imagined ramming one through the _Millenium Falcon_ and chuckled. 

Hm… those waffles were pretty good…

In the end he ate both of them, nibble by nibble, and no matter how much caf he washed them down with, a rather sweetly tasting fatigue came over him. Satisfied with his plans and preliminary drafts, he decided to give in.

When he woke up, it was getting dark. 

The house was still silent, no trace of the alpha’s scent. 

Hux’s eyes travelled to the entrance and he pressed his lips together. 

He cleared the plate of the remaining crumbs, and as he tasted sweetness on his index finger, he realised. 

He just spent the whole day without feeling horrible about himself and his condition. The heat was still there of course, but it _just was_. A warm undercurrent running through his body. A weight here, a pressure there. 

How was that possible? Was it because Ren wasn’t there? …No, that wasn’t it. Then why?

He went through the events of previous days and tried to find out what made this one different. 

…ah yes. He didn’t hear _that voice_ and its malicious words even once. But could this be the only reason? That wasn’t possible. Was it? His heat was supposed to be a horrible thing. It was supposed to turn him into an overripe fruit leaking juices which attracted foul vermin. It was supposed to turn him into a pathetic, weak omega. 

Except…

He looked at his draft. At his hands. 

His father had always belittled him for his slight stature, but… did he really need a strong, bemuscled body of an alpha to bring millions to their knees? 

_Yes. A pathetic beanpole of a man will never command any respect._ The voice sneered.

He looked at his reflection in the window. 

…and then he started to snigger. And then the snigger turned into a quiet laugh. 

_I won’t command any respect?_ He asked that voice. _When’s the last time you destroyed five planets and brought the Republic to its knees with a single command?_

Suddenly the laughter stopped and he leaned his forehead against the window pane. 

He couldn’t have held so much influence over his life, could he? That voice. Brendol. Father. 

Was he, in the end, the biggest success of father’s program, the most dutiful little cadet, obedient to the ideals of the commander long after his death? 

_…no…_

“No.”


	10. Wissna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter felt like two pages when I wrote it and twenty when I proofread it.

> It wasn’t the best day for exploration, with all that rain and fog, but Kylo didn’t mind. Being constantly cooped up inside the house was getting to him, and the presence of an omega in heat, who would probably never stop despising him, played a great role in that. Hux _might’ve_ eaten one of his waffles last evening, but Kylo didn’t dare to hope for much more. Furthermore, the response of his own body was like a cherry on top. He had to get his release at least three times a day, which made him feel pathetic. He needed to get out. 
> 
> He had no direction in mind when he hopped on his speeder, no destination to reach for, so he just blindly rode wherever the sleek black bumper pointed. There wasn’t much to see anyway, as everything was shrouded by a thin grey haze. 
> 
> After a while, he passed a number of small lakes surrounded by thin, finger-like podetia of some pale blue species of lichen. They reached up to two metres in height, and clinging to them was a whole flock of huge butterflies. With their wings folded, thorax fur matted and drops of rain collecting on their antennae, the insects looked quite miserable, hardly even stirring as he zoomed by. 
> 
> All those lakes were connected by a narrow river, and Kylo decided to go up its stream. It didn’t take long and he came across a wood. An actual wood with trees. He recognised birches, some kind of alders with broad, dark leaves, beeches, and rowans. It looked too well-maintained to have sprung up naturally, so Kylo slowed down, turned the lights on and dove right inside. 
> 
> The fog was denser there, and he had to use the force to navigate through it, otherwise he’d have to cut his speed to a walking level, if he didn’t want to crash into the nearest tree. His perception attuned to the flow of all, he heard not only the rain as it fell against the canopies, but even the fog rubbing against the trees and animals stirring in the distance, alarmed by his intrusion.
> 
> Soon he became aware of a clearing, or rather a swath of space, which cut straight through the woods nearby. When he reached it few moments later, his assumptions were confirmed. It was a road. A road, leading to a spacious building made mostly out of white duracrete and panels of transparisteel. Most of it appeared intact, only some of the topmost windows showed cracks, as if some ship had engaged its hyperdrive much too close to the ground. 
> 
> Kylo kicked the repulsor booster and his speeder leaped gracefully over a gate chained shut to bar trespassing. Once he landed, he switched the speeder off and jumped down on the solid ground, his feet splashing in a large puddle. He looked around, indifferent to the rain soaking through his cloak. 
> 
> That place looked like a cross between a health resort and a botanical garden. 
> 
> Separating the outer wall from the building itself was a wide belt of land, divided into a number of smallish gardens. Many of them were criss-crossed by a number of streams, which pooled in ponds overgrown with pink-blooming water lilies. Tufts of overgrown decorative grasses were also plentiful, often rising from driftwood-decorated _‘lakes’_ of white gravel, and elegant, crimson-leaved konna trees stood tall above red-lacquered benches glossy even after all those years.
> 
> It must’ve been a rather charming place, but the passage of time left its mark even on these gardens. Many of the once meticulously maintained trees have grown wild, their aerial roots twisting in search of the nearest pond, canopies stretching towards the light. Clumps of native lichens were taking over, swallowing up everything in their path. Their invasion was especially impressive where the oversized bushes of bright blue hydrangea were involved - the scaly lichen climbed up its branches and cocooned them, while new hydrangea shoots as well as clusters of cerulean-blue flowers simply burst out of the parasitic shell. Some of the resulting shapes were downright bizarre. 
> 
> Kylo turned away from the gardens and looked at the building itself. 
> 
> The weather-worn sing next to it stated: _Wissna Health and Recreation Centre_ in an elegant font. 
> 
> A thick chain, identical to the one coiled around the main gate, was wrapped around the handles of a boarded-up entrance. Wood of those hastily-nailed planks had almost disappeared under the feather-like growths of lichen, but the chain looked fairly new. 
> 
> Kylo looked around. There were no cameras there to watch him and no caretakers to potentially tell him off for trespassing (as if he’d let them – hah!), and so he tapped the chain with his finger. There was a series of soft clicks and it fell to the ground. He tugged at the right leaf of the unusually wide door and it moved, but only a little, and even that was accompanied by a scraping groan of rusty hinges. Right now this challenge was a welcomed one. It has been quite a while since he had to use his physical strength to accomplish something, so with a faint ghost of joy he grabbed the handle with both hands and pulled. 
> 
> The door did not give in without a fight, but eventually he let himself in what must’ve been a reception of sorts. 
> 
> It was surprisingly dry inside, albeit the omnipresent lichen found its way even there, growing in corners where walls met the ceiling. He noticed it right away as it gave off a soft, greenish-yellow glow. 
> 
> Kylo’s first impression of the place was that it had been hastily abandoned. There were flimsies and even sheets of old-fashioned paper strewn all over the floor, some dirtied by footprints. From the way those stained papers were crumpled, he imagined the _‘culprits’_ must’ve moved with considerable haste. Apart from that, he also noticed a number of cast-off bags and pieces of clothing, even a couple of droids long since deactivated. 
> 
> Generally speaking, there didn’t seem to be anything _that_ interesting on the ground floor, so he crossed it without stopping, took the first stairs to look what’s further up, and in the mezzanine he found the first painting. 
> 
> It was a large pastoral scene painted in light colours, mostly various shades of yellow and green, depicting a shepherd with intricately braided hair as he guarded a peaceful herd of nerfs. His belly was swollen with the unmistakeable bump of a child. An omega. 
> 
> Kylo realised he should’ve known. After all, this planet used to be a popular retreat for omegas, especially those pregnant or in heat. This must’ve been one of their resorts. And a pricey one at that.
> 
> As he reached the first floor and went from door to door there, he found all sorts of lodgings, from tiny little rooms with hardly any space for anything but oversized, luxurious nests full of puffy, colourful cushions, quilted blankets, and all manner of ribbons, scarves, and shawls, to king-sized apartments with streamlined lumiplast furniture, curved holo-screens, and bath-tubs big enough to fit at least a dozen of people. This retreat had catered to any taste imaginable. 
> 
> Every room was decorated with paintings similar to the one he saw in the hallway. Serene scenes of lush meadows, blooming gardens, gentle, fuzzy animals, and omegas looking pretty and, more often than not, pretty pregnant. 
> 
> Hoping that the daily lives of long-vanished guests would help him get some insight into Hux’s situation, he started going through the rooms more thoroughly. He took notice of flimsies, looked inside drawers, and opened hidden compartments built into nests the force helped him to locate, and whatever he found, he read with a wistful kind of solemnity. 
> 
> There were cheeky messages, such as an exchange between two neighbouring omegas he found written on a flimsy. 
> 
> _If you open the cover to the utility system an hour before midnight, you can hear that stuffy Yttra going at it with her alpha. By stars, the pitch of that woman’s wails could shatter even transparisteel._
> 
> _I know, right? I swear my evening milk turned to curd within five seconds._
> 
> Some of his findings were, however, less light-hearted. 
> 
> In a nearby room he found a crumpled-up paper, which appeared to be a guide on how to best deal with pregnancy. Someone covered it with scribbles saying _NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NOT FAIR NEVER_ so densely, the paper was torn through in several places. The ink was blurred. Kylo realised in was from tears. He let go of the paper with an aching sadness in his heart. 
> 
> There was also that one flimsy with a half-finished letter. 
> 
> _“My dearest Beirr.  
>  I hope you are doing well. Where have they stationed you? I sincerely hope you aren’t too close to the front lines. I know the Jedi are there, but Separatists are a nasty bunch. As for me, you don’t need to worry. I’m rather surprised by how peaceful this place is. _
> 
> _You know I vowed never to indulge in handicrafts or anything related to flowers – I’m a soldier for heaven’s sake – but a new friend I made here taught me how to sew, and I must admit it is rather entertaining. I’ve tried making some simpler things – socks, tunics and the likes, and I realised this kind of tranquillity is something I’d like to experience more often. And it is something I wish you would experience as well. I know this is something you always wanted but never voiced in order not to offend my feelings, so it is up to me to say – I think I’d like to start a family with you. If you are sti_
> 
> The letter ended there. 
> 
> Wondering what had happened, Kylo took his gloves off. He put one hand to the wall and grasped the letter in the other. Then he concentrated. 
> 
> The force thrummed through him, and he followed its hair-like roots spreading throughout the building. 
> 
> He saw the blurry image of a sandy-haired man, hunched over a table. The room was filled with tranquillity, yes, but there was also an undercurrent of tension like the scent of ozone just before a storm. Suddenly there was a blare of a siren. A female voice announced that the whole place was going to be evacuated, and moments later the first Republic transporters began to land. 
> 
> Kylo wondered what became of that man, and whether he managed to start a family with that Beirr person. After all, the list of causalities caused by the Clone Wars was so enormous it far outstripped the effects of Hux firing his Starkiller.
> 
> The next apartment he entered was one of the spacious ones – perhaps _the_ most spacious. It had a king-sized bed in addition to a nest, a pool, a terraced balcony with patches of flowers… and almost no decorations whatsoever. Everything was stripped bare. There were no (faded) paintings, no vases of (withered) flowers, not even any colourful cushions or blankets. There was one large wall which, judging by the lighter rectangles, must’ve held a cluster of paintings. Those were all gone. Instead of them, there was a message, slashed into the plaster with a blade. 
> 
> I AM NOT AN OMEGA. I AM ULLYSS KARR AND NOTHING ELSE. 
> 
> Kylo pressed his lips together. He could feel the echo of rage carved in along with those words, undiminished by time. 
> 
> He sat down at the foot of a messed-up bed and stared at the writing. 
> 
> It was strange. 
> 
> He himself was simply… him. He didn’t need any names or labels. Some had called him _‘Ben Solo’_ , others _‘Kylo Ren’_. He was a _‘human male_ ’, an _‘alpha’_. These facts were aspects of him, yes, some less desirable than others, but none of them was his truth. His truth was simply that _he_ was _him_ and nothing could ever change it. Presenting as an alpha, joining Skywalker’s Jedi school, becoming the Master of the Knights of Ren – all of these were simply the consequences of this one core truth, and whenever bad things have happened, it was because someone tried to use these consequences and alter his truth through them. 
> 
> That’s when he anguished or raged the most. 
> 
> But Hux and this Ullyss Karr person – they rejected this core ingredient of theirs as something foreign, or… 
> 
> (He gazed up at the writing once again and traced his lower lip with his thumb, eagerly trying to bring this train of thought to its terminal station without any distractions.)
> 
> …or someone tried to mask this core truth as a mere consequence and use it as a leverage to shift them in a direction unnatural to them. But how could it be unnatural, if it was caused by their inmost truth?
> 
> Kylo heaved a sigh. He felt he was too stupid to philosophize like this. 
> 
> So he left. Just like that. 
> 
> He returned to the ground floor and looked behind the receptionist’s counter. Perhaps he’d learn more about that Ullyss Karr. 
> 
> The console there was silent and dark, the power to it cut as he expected, but there too he found a great number of various messages and notes. 
> 
> He picked up one and read. 
> 
> _Norrwis_
> 
> _It seems that the front line is disintegrating faster than expected. War could come to us before we know it. I’m expecting we’re going to be evacuated any day, and as much as it pains me, this time it might be final. This place is like a home to me. And in spite of all this, that damn Torsta still manages to find time to lecture me about what I should or shouldn’t do in my own institution. That man is worse than the plague. If it wasn’t for his success rate with difficult cases, I would’ve had him transfer ages  ago. _
> 
> _Nevertheless, I still hope you’ll find some time tonight to join me for a glass of wine. To reminiscence about old times and whatnot._
> 
> _Ta’Vell._
> 
> This piqued Kylo’s interests. Success with difficult cases? Maybe if he found that Torsta’s office, he could learn something new. 
> 
> He checked an old groundplan and found out that the offices of the staff were in an adjacent wing. Thankfully, its entrance was kept unlocked and unobstructed. He walked through it, passed a small cafeteria along with some vending machines, and went up. 
> 
> First floor. Large portions of its walls were made of green-tinted transparisteel, which created a surprisingly refreshing atmosphere. Most furnishings there were in ivory or creamy white, and the floor was made of yellow and white tiles shaped like curved drops or leaves. Kylo mused why the place was never re-opened. Would it be too costly? He wasn’t sure. The interiors were mostly intact, save for the occasional invasion of lichen. Or did the director, that Ta’Vell person, die in the war? That seemed more likely. 
> 
> And speaking of Ta’Vell, Kylo suddenly passed his office. 
> 
> _Director Maresias Ta’Vell,_ spelled a polished brass plaque on one of the doors. 
> 
> Inside he found a bigger mess than anywhere else. 
> 
> The computer console was missing, the door to every display case was open, and hidden in the mess of flimsies, pens, and some discarded clothing articles lay the shards of broken wine glasses. 
> 
> Once again, Kylo could sense the ghost of a distant past. He saw two people behind a table. A Togruta woman in an elegant, peach-coloured dress and a human man in a smart, navy-blue suit. Then the siren blared. They both jumped up. The woman, most likely Norrwis, stumbled in her high heels and knocked her glass over. Ta’Vell managed to catch her. The shadow of a transporter crossed the sky above them.
> 
> He looked around, searching for something that would draw his eye, and found it in the form of a litter basket. He tipped it over with a gentle nudge of his foot. A small cloud of dust rose in the air as a pile of ordinary garbage spilled out on the wine-stained carpet. There was the usual assortment of food wrappers and various bits and pieces, and also several flimsies, some crumpled up in tighter balls than others. He took one and tried to unfold it as carefully as possible. Though it didn’t rain inside, seasonal temperature changes along with all the dust did the integrity of the sheet no favours. In spite of that, he was able to read it. 
> 
> _Dear colleague._
> 
> _I would like to ask you with utmost sincerity and urgency to please remind the staff not to call our guests omegas, even among themselves, and use their names instead. It is most counterproductive to all our efforts. Especially now, during these unstable times, we have to do our best to ensure their lasting comfort and help them achieve a peace of mind. This is, after all, the reason they have chosen this institution._
> 
> _I would also like to point out that the recent trend of generalising and coming up with blanket solutions is most worrying. Though I realise it saves credits in these times of rising prices, I’d like to remind you that we have established this health and recreation centre on principles of individual approach, holistic treatment, and betterment of body and mind. Treating our guests as ‘omegas’, whatever that might mean, is, after all, the root cause behind Nurse Bai-Li’s unfortunate loss of an eye. Calling Miss Karr, a Toydarian warlord, an omega to her face and suggesting_ ‘she should learn to crochet to better fit in with other young ladies’ _is something only a fool would do, even if Miss Karr wasn’t already upset by her condition._
> 
> _Once again I have to repeat that it is_ precisely because _these times are so troubled that we, as doctors, therapists, and companions, have to let our humanity shine._
> 
> _With friendliest regards,_
> 
> _Yuu’In Torsta_
> 
> Kylo re-read the message, and then he carefully folded it in half and put it in one of his pockets. 
> 
> He started to like the doctor. It took some serious determination to keep a cool head and not lose one’s empathy when everyone was under tremendous pressure. He knew, for he himself had failed.
> 
> He looked out of the window. 
> 
> It wasn’t raining anymore, and the fog lifted a bit, but he could see angry, dark clouds up above. They passed so low, their bellies seemed to brush against the treetops. 
> 
> He continued with his search for Dr. Torsta’s office. 
> 
> As it turned out, he didn’t have to look for long. 
> 
> It was at the end of the hallway - a rather small room with the illusion of spaciousness, imparted to it by huge windows facing both north and west. There was some mess there as well, but as it was furnished only very sparsely, there wasn’t much to put in disarray. 
> 
> Like the rest of the institution, the walls of this room have been painted light green, but instead of paintings, here they were decorated by abstract mosaics made of square pieces of glass. Those works teemed with every hue of blue and green, from the shade of fresh spring leaves to the colour of night sky on Naboo. Both colours created waves, which mingled together and permeated one-another in most surprising patterns, creating eye-pleasing designs, which must’ve done wonders for tension relief. 
> 
> Kylo spared the office itself hardly a look. He shuffled through drawers and cabinets in hopes of finding another useful snippet of information. Sadly it appeared the doctor was rather thorough with the clean-up. Computer console, datapads, durasheets, data-tapes, holoprints… everything was gone. 
> 
> But. 
> 
> He noticed a waste-container in the corner of the room. If this place had been hastily evacuated, and then simply closed off, it was unlikely someone came to take out the recyclables. He put it on top of the table, unclipped its locks, and – success. 
> 
> Among mundane information on expenses and charts which meant nothing to anyone not initiated in this branch of services, Kylo found something which was either a part of some thesis, or a simple exercise to relieve an overstuffed mind. Many years ago this sort of thing helped even Kylo himself. Helped with the pressure of all those voices whispering in his head and nightmares plaguing his mind. 
> 
> He sat down on the floor, leaned against the wall, and read. 
> 
> _After a study spanning twelve standard galactic years, I have come to the conclusion that many of those born omega experience intense feelings of stress, mental discomfort, corporal dissociation, and many other symptoms during their estrus, even though they report no previous history of psychological or pathopsychological conditions._
> 
> _In order to tackle the problem from every possible angle, I’ve had a number of discussions with some patients on the topic of their familial and workplace background. In some cases, I have even asked for the permission to speak with their family members or spouses, though those little chats were by no means interviews. You can gain many useful data and clues just from the way a certain person greets you. Even from an apparently meaningless small-talk about weather or speeders. And there is also the matter of perhaps the most important form of communication, the non-verbal one. _
> 
> _Thus I realised that a large portion of those who seek my counsel has issues with expectations. _
> 
> _These patients can be divided into two groups._
> 
> _1) There are those, betrayed by expectations placed on them by their local society_
> 
> _2) There are those, betrayed by their own expectations of their bodies and minds_
> 
> _Neither is worse off than the other. There are lighter cases as well as more serious ones on either side._
> 
> _The crux of the problem is, however, only one._
> 
> _Entering estrus alters the perception of the subject in question. A considerable portion of those suffering from the Traumatic Estrus Syndrome stop being Tallys, Orha, Sylvar, or Beem, and become simply **’The Omega in Heat’**. This state of being, which is as demeaning as it is temporary, is closely tied to conservative and atavistic conceptions of omegan mannerism and behaviour. _
> 
> _The first step in treating TES is, therefore, reminding the patient that they are, in fact, Tallys, Orha, Sylvar, or Beem **before** they are an omega. _
> 
> _The second is reminding them that their estrus is only temporary, and that they have lives, careers, commitments, and goals beyond that – in other words, that they are the nucleus of their own respective worlds, which are largely unconnected to their reproductive cycle._
> 
> Kylo stared at the flimsiplast for a very long time. 
> 
> Things started to click together. 
> 
> He left the office, flimsi in his hand, closed the door behind him and returned to the reception. 
> 
> Fortunately enough, the emergency radio as well as a back-up generator were left behind – most likely on accord of their bulk. Kylo started the latter up, hooked the former to it, and connected it to his own comm-link. Then he commenced the lengthy manual search for the correct frequency. 
> 
> It took way longer than he was used to, but finally he heard a familiar voice. 
> 
> “Master Ren. How is it going?” It was Ulla Ren. 
> 
> “I’m doing fine.”
> 
> “Is the ginger General giving you trouble? Do you want us to join you?”
> 
> “No. I need you to find something. Or someone.”
> 
> “Just say the word. I’ll have Vargys- _HEY, VARGYS REN! C’MERE! MASTER IS IN NEED OF YOUR SERVICES!_ (Kylo had to remove the receiver from his ear last he’d end up with damaged hearing) –locate whoever you’re trying to find. Here he is. Just say the name, master.”
> 
> “Yuu’In Torsta. A doctor.”
> 
> There was a pause, and then a different voice answered. 
> 
> “There it is. Torsta, Yuu’In. Born - 75BBY. Died- 19BBY.”
> 
> “Oh. So he died.”
> 
> “Yes. He served on board of a Republic frigate the _Cassadies_ , which was covering the retreat of the seventh fleet. The _Cassadies_ was surrounded by several Separatist _Munificent_ -class vessels and destroyed. Everyone on board died, including Torsta, Yuu’In, who was serving there as a medical officer. Here. I’m sending you his file, master.”
> 
> Kylo pulled out his datapad. 
> 
> The image of an older, serious-looking man appeared. He had neatly parted, greying hair and a calm look in his eyes. And he was a beta. That was a little bit surprising. Kylo took him for an alpha, with how strong a character his writings and his office emanated. 
> 
> The information about his death put Kylo in a melancholic mood. Once again he was reminded that at war there were no differences between alphas, betas or omegas. Its tireless gears crushed everyone without distinction. 
> 
> “Would you like to speak to his daughter, master?” Vargys Ren asked, interrupting Kylo’s train of thought.
> 
> “-what?”
> 
> “She’s a medical officer on board of the _Finalizer._ ”
> 
> Kylo’s eyes narrowed. 
> 
> “Yes. Put her through.”
> 
> There was several moments’ worth of silence. Kylo stared in turns at the bluish holo of the doctor and at the lichen-covered walls of the reception. 
> 
> “This is Torsta.” A cool voice said then. “How may I help you, Supreme Leader?”
> 
> “Are you the daughter of Yuu’In Torsta?”
> 
> Pause. 
> 
> “…yes. You are on Ascodita then, I take it?”
> 
> “That I am. I assume this is no coincidence then.” 
> 
> “No. Though people are slowly returning there from what I’ve heard, it is still very much an abandoned planet. Why are you there, Supreme Leader? I’m afraid that General Hux needs peace and quiet, and forcing him into any other scenario would be a _grave mistake_ with _many unpleasant consequences._ ”
> 
> Kylo pressed his lips together. The last couple of sentences sounded almost like a threat. 
> 
> “ _I know. I thought he-… I never knew that-_ …” he took a deep breath. “I was… wrong… in some regards. I am just making sure he… is fine.”
> 
> “Are you _letting yourself be influenced_ , Supreme Leader?” 
> 
> “So what if I am? But like I already told _him_ , I’m not some mindless animal who has to rut into the nearest soft surface once he smells an omega in heat. Stop… stop thinking that about me. It is not fair. I have self-restraint.”
> 
> “I see.” 
> 
> The doctor’s words did not sound exactly convinced. 
> 
> “Never mind that. I found the Wissna health and recreation centre. I’ve read a couple of your father’s notes. Why did he enlist? His skills would’ve been much more useful away from the front lines.”
> 
> “…I don’t know. I’ve last seen father one year after the beginning of the Clone wars, just before I was drafted. Eventually I was captured by the Separatists, and by the time I was freed, had my legs replaced and learned how to use them, it was already too late. However, it wasn’t out of character for father to enlist. He was a man of principles. Whenever he noticed any wrongs, he wanted to get as close to their source as possible and solve them in his own, unhurried way. It has cost him his life, but I imagine he had no regrets.”
> 
> “Is he the reason you sent General Hux here?”
> 
> “Yes and no. Father mentioned this planet a couple of times, and I thought it would be a good place for the General. I expected complications. You are there now. Perhaps you have even seen them. Even so, do not start taking Armitage for a weak man.”
> 
> “That’s…hardly possible.” 
> 
> “I see. Perhaps that place might be good for you too, Supreme Leader. Now if you excuse me, I have patients to treat.”
> 
> “Right. You do that.”
> 
> The connection went silent. 
> 
> Kylo turned the generator off and hid both the comm-link and the datapad back into his pockets. 
> 
> When he looked out, he was surprised to see that the surrounding forest was almost dark. Was it _that_ late already?
> 
> He thought of Hux, of his sleeping form wrapped in a blanket. An unpleasant foreboding crept into his mind. He didn’t mean to be out for so long.
> 
> He shouldn’t’ve been out for so long. 
> 
> A hive of what-ifs buzzed around his imagination, stinging it with disagreeable images that were _nothing like_ Hux, but which his conscience did not allow him to dismiss _completely_. 
> 
> And so he returned to his speeder, leaving the Wissna premises to their slow decay. 
> 
> On the way back, he tried to concentrate on his speeder’s controls, if only to keep those stupid images away. Hux was Hux. He had to remember that. Yuu’In Torsta was right. Thinking of Hux as _an omega_ was wrong. It was entirely possible that Kylo would end up with a dagger between his ribs once they would return to the _Finalizer_ , but armed with his new knowledge, there was a chance that he could mend their relationship. Perhaps he’d stop being abandoned by everyone in his life. 
> 
> As soon as the speeder touched the ground, Kylo jumped off and rushed into the house. It was almost completely dark by then. His nose told him the General remained downstairs where he had left him that morning. Not good. Definitely not good. 
> 
> He quietly sneaked into the living room. 
> 
> First he noticed the plate and thermos he had prepared in the kitchen. To his considerable surprise, both were empty. As for Hux, he seemed to have fallen asleep in the middle of designing some… _thing_. He was surrounded by flimsies and a stylus was still clutched between his fingers.
> 
> Kylo heaved a sigh of relief. 
> 
> Gone was the smell of sickness, which had enveloped the ginger General. His scent improved in every way. _Too much_ , perhaps. Kylo retreated from the living room, a blush tingeing his cheeks. With a smile on his face, he went upstairs to use Hux’s bathroom, since he himself smelled like a wet wookie.
> 
> One quick shower later he crept into the kitchen and tied an apron around his waist to start with the dinner. When he looked up, he saw Hux watching him from the doorway. With his sleep-ruffled hair, crumpled up robe and hem of a sleeve imprinted into his cheek, he looked very…
> 
> Kylo had to swallow. It was difficult to reconcile with the thought that he just found the mastermind behind the Hosnian Cataclysm and his former bitter rival _adorable_ , but there it was. 
> 
> “I didn’t mean to return so late. Sorry.” Kylo said. “Are you feeling better? You _look_ better.”
> 
> Hux looked at him, and Kylo… 
> 
> Kylo’s heart skipped a beat. Did Hux just smile? It was tiny, but yes. That was a smile. 
> 
> “I had a good day.” Hux said and leaned against the doorframe. “And you?”
> 
> He felt himself smiling in response. Right now, it was the most natural expression in the world. 
> 
> “Me too. I had a good day as well.”
> 
> “How was the weather?” Hux asked, a hint of strange hesitation, perhaps even uneasiness in his voice.
> 
> “Pretty dreadful. But nowhere near as bad as that one storm I got into while staying on Pamarthe. I thought I was going to end up on the other end of the planet before uncle caught me; and then _his_ hand slipped as well.”
> 
> Before Kylo knew it, he began a long monologue about the weather of that backwater Outer Rim planet, and slowly but surely, the house filled with the luscious aroma of a hearty, rainy-day stew. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	11. Gale

> They ate mostly in silence, punctuated by the soft tinkling of cutlery against porcelain. 
> 
> Though it was pitch-black outside, they gazed out of the window, watching the way huge raindrops splattered against the pane, chased by an unusually strong wind. The insistent whisper of the rain kept growing louder, but then it almost died off at one point, only to pick up, stronger than before. 
> 
> Hux finished an entire bowl of stew with carrots and potatoes and gratefully accepted a large mug of caf. The meal made him sleepy. He tried not to think how the presence of the alpha in front of him reassured him, especially after his long absence. That was just his biology talking. _Reassuring_ wasn’t exactly an appropriate label for Ren’s tumultuous personality anyway. Nevertheless he _did_ appreciate Ren’s newfound restraint; as well as his cooking skills.
> 
> Unfortunately though, his body craved something more. More of the release from earlier, and deeper. 
> 
> He observed Ren from above the mug he held to his lips
> 
> The man certainly possessed the figure of an alpha. His face had strong features that more often than not betrayed every emotion hidden behind those dark, captivating eyes. Hux could understand why Ren chose to wear his helmet so often. 
> 
> All in all, he left a strong impression wherever he went; as was usual for an alpha. 
> 
> On the other hand, he also had more than his fair share of weird idiosyncrasies. 
> 
> His cooking and cleaning skills were certainly an oddity, as was his penchant for surrendering to his emotions. The alphas Hux had dealt with in the past often boasted of total control they had over their feelings; though, when he thought about it, that was a load of bantha crap. This _discipline_ and _self-control_ they prided themselves in so obnoxiously was nothing but a renouncement of the more tender emotions. There was still plenty of glee, anger, pettiness, and cruelty to be seen even among the most alpha-like of alphas, when one knew where to look. 
> 
> Then he realised - was he any different? He used to tell himself he’d sit back and take it easy at some point in the future, but the more powerful he became, the more out of reach that point got. 
> 
> He remembered how, in his cadet years, he used to be made to attend various functions. He had observed the high ranks there, their interactions and non-verbal communication, and couldn’t help but wonder whether the whole Imperial Remnant/First Order reached a status quo, where the strong ones looked down on their subordinates, who themselves bowed complaisantly while covertly sharpening their daggers. Not for the good of the whole Remnant, but just because of their own ambitions. 
> 
> There was nothing wrong with a little backstabbing here and there, but it shouldn’t be the preferred method of dealing with things. 
> 
> Thinking this, he naturally couldn’t help but reflect on the path he himself had trodden so far - and frowned. He might as well eat crumpets with all those despicable wretches on their next Empire Day gala. 
> 
> That was a bitter thought to swallow. 
> 
> Suddenly Ren finished his caf and put his mug down with a loud tinkle of the spoon left inside. 
> 
> “I was thinking.” He started and Hux tensed up. “We should talk.”
> 
> Not good. Definitely not good. 
> 
> “Very well, Supreme Leader.” An automatic reply slipped out of Hux’s mouth. 
> 
> Something flickered in Ren’s eyes. A brief emotion. What was it? Did it really look like _hurt_?
> 
> “And we should have some wine. To make the talking easier.”
> 
> “Yes. Yes, that seems like a good idea.” Hux agreed, trying not to look too enthusiastic. 
> 
> They moved into the living room. 
> 
> The weather worsened, turning into a gale. The wind was now positively howling, and it whipped the small house with what wasn’t quite as much a downpour as it was an airborne flood. Ren lit a fire in the fireplace and brought a chilled bottle of Kaminoan Tregult along with two glasses. Filling them, he handed the first one to Hux, who had seated himself on the sofa, and then he sat in the armchair, taking a sip from the other. 
> 
> “I wanted to talk about our future. Our circumstances. How they are going to change once we return back to the _Finalizer_.”
> 
> “…I see.” Hux nodded curtly as soon as he swallowed the first mouthful of the dry Tregult.
> 
> “I…” Ren paused to wet his lips “I don’t want to return to how things used to be. Between the two of us, I mean. I’m… I can’t treat you the way I have after all this. Nevertheless, there are those three assassination attempts you were behind.”
> 
> Hux felt a chill run down his spine. The aftertaste of the wine turned bitter. He had no idea Ren had found out, having always told himself that if he _did_ , the end would be swift and merciless. 
> 
> “I didn’t punish you for those, because I realise you know much more about the Order than me. And I’m used to working with you. And, to be honest, it wasn’t _that_ difficult to thwart them.”
> 
> Hux felt his cheeks grow hot with both shame and indignation. Those were _very well crafted_ plans, but unfortunately for him, Ren was the strongest force user since stars know who.
> 
> “If I’m to start treating you better, than it has to be mutual. I’ll have to make you stop.” 
> 
> Hux put his glass down and looked Ren in the eyes. 
> 
> “Are you going to force bond with me?” He asked more bitterly than intended. “That way you’d always know when I’m plotting against you.” 
> 
> Ren shook his head, to his surprise. 
> 
> “No. I admit that would be easier, but no. I’d never, _never_ do anything like that. Any alpha worth his mettle would never sink so low. Even if it means living in uncertainty. Actually, I was thinking of promoting you. Not to Grand Marshall, no. I thought of something like… I don’t know. Supreme Commander, or something like that.” 
> 
> Hux wanted to take a mouthful of his wine, but he forgot where the glass was and how to use his hand. Was this a ploy? No, Ren wasn’t _that_ kind of person. 
> 
> As he didn’t receive any response, the Supreme Leader continued. 
> 
> “It would be the same position as mine, just different responsibilities. I…” he heaved a sigh and looked around “…being here, having time to breathe and _really think_ about everything made me realise that the First Order is too big for only one leader. As a Supreme Commander, you’d be responsible for the military and stuff, and I’d take care of the worlds we already conquered. After all, we can’t enforce our rule by military strength alone. We don’t have enough manpower for that. But if we build schools and hospitals and training centres, then I’m sure the people will _want_ to be conquered by us. I’d very much like that. What do you think? Will you take me up on the offer?”
> 
> Hux took a deep breath followed by a shaky sip, only to make sure he wasn’t dreaming this. When he looked up at Ren, he saw the other man watching him with utmost earnestness. 
> 
> “I accept the offer.” Hux answered and it felt like those words somehow echoed in the cosy little room. 
> 
> Ren nodded. “In return, I want you to promise me that you’ll work _with_ me and not against me. But not now. Once we’re back on the _Finalizer_.”
> 
> Hux looked out of the window, at the rivulets of water flowing down the thick pane of glass, and imagined himself sitting side-by-side with Ren. If Ren really meant those words, then he wouldn’t have a reason to plot against him, as their responsibilities would be too different. He still couldn’t quite believe this was happening. Up until a week or so ago, this man thought nothing of flinging him against any hard object or undermine his authority in front of his peers, and while he _did_ seem serious, this was Kylo “The Human Volcano” Ren. And he - Hux, the Starkiller…
> 
> He heaved a sigh. “It sounds nice, but it’s not going to be a walk through a rose garden, especially in the beginning.”
> 
> “You’re probably right.” Ren agreed, slightly crestfallen. 
> 
> Hux finished the rest of his wine and poured himself another glass. “You’re the strangest alpha I know, Ren.”
> 
> The other man’s face brightened up with a small smile. “And you’re the strangest Hux I know.”
> 
> That made the General chuckle. “I’m the _only_ Hux you know.”
> 
> “True.” 
> 
> “I was also thinking.” Hux admitted. He wasn’t sure how to bring it up, but the supposed promotion helped to lower his walls. As did the wine. “You were… not wrong with the whole omega business. It’s just that… “ he paused in search of suitable words “I had to deal with so many trash alphas with their trash opinions, it became hard to realise that the reality did not actually work the way they claimed.”
> 
> “I’m happy to hear that. Really.” 
> 
> “I want to become more… hmm… more comfortable with the way my body is. I mean, look how I ended up by denying… _myself_. I’m thinking I should start with getting used to being touched.” He said and took a long gulp so he wouldn’t have to elaborate. He couldn’t look at Ren right now. Not with that damn blush he felt creeping up on his cheeks. 
> 
> “You want me to touch you?” Ren asked. 
> 
> “Yes. But not in, ah, not in a _sexual_ way.” 
> 
> “I see. Well, how about I give you a massage then?” 
> 
> “A massage?”
> 
> “A back massage.”
> 
> Hux knotted his eyebrows. He didn’t expect Ren to come up with a suggestion _that_ quickly. 
> 
> “…alright. When do you want to do that?”
> 
> “How about right now?”
> 
> “Right now?”
> 
> “Is there a better time?” Ren gestured vaguely at the world around them. 
> 
> Hux had to admit. With the gale raging outside, the fire crackling, and a faint ghost of rain wafting through a badly sealed window somewhere, it _did_ seem like a pretty okay time. The scent of rain. Oddly enough, it still clung to Ren, even after his shower. There was also a hint of sun-warmed soil and that hickory-like smell from before, now supplemented with spicy sandal wood… and vanilla. The scent made his head swim a little. 
> 
> He could feel the presence of his father, lurking somewhere within his critical mind, sneering. He pressed his lips together and turned away, but he couldn’t escape the echo of slur no better than he could run away from his own thoughts. 
> 
> “…or we can wait until morning.” Ren added, disappointment tingeing his voice. 
> 
> “Where do you want me?” Hux asked more forcefully then he would’ve liked to shut the blabbering up. It was ridiculous. The man was dead. Dead and tossed into the void of space like common garbage. He had no right to haunt him like that. 
> 
> Hux looked up and noticed the blush on Ren’s cheeks. Only then did his mind catch up with his mouth. “I mean - you’re right. It is a good time. Do you want to do it in the bedroom or here?” he elaborated with slow, carefully measured words. Which was even worse. Did he really have to mention the bedroom? The heat within his insides burned hotter at the remark and made his skin tingle. He wanted to bite his own tongue. 
> 
> “Uhm… it would be better in here, with the fire and all. But the sofa is not really good for that kind of stuff, unless… yes. I’m just going to make a bed on the floor. I think I saw a bottle of massage oil in the bathroom cabinet. Could you get it for me, please?”
> 
> “Sure.”
> 
> Hux finished his wine with one gulp and left the room. 
> 
>  
> 
> When Hux left the room, Kylo gulped and released the grip on the hem of his tunic. His hands shook. He still couldn’t believe he found the courage to offer Hux that promotion, and that Hux actually agreed. They would share the power and the responsibilities. _Like a married couple_ , his mind helpfully suggested, and he shook his head. Stupid, stupid, stupid. This was about the Order. Everything was about the Order, when it came to Hux. 
> 
> And yet he agreed, and not only that, he wanted Kylo to touch him. While that delicious scent blossomed within him once again. Kylo only had to imagine how it would feel like, to run his fingers over that soft skin, and he had to use his training to keep his excitement in check. 
> 
> He knew that once Hux’s heat was over and they were back on the _Finalizer_ , they would probably butt heads every now and then. But he also knew that having seen that copper hair lit though by the sun, that slender form wrapped in a thin robe, those feet with their dainty little toes curled up in sleep, he could never _hate_ the man again. 
> 
> But could he _trust_ him?
> 
> He would have to. Trust that Hux wouldn’t just decide to get rid of him at some point, and take all the power for himself. Because otherwise what kind of life would he lead? He had to trust Hux and believe that the man realised by now he meant no harm anymore, that he wouldn’t do anything without his consent. 
> 
> And for that he had to control his raging heart, that roaring fire within his veins which called for the heat of another’s skin. 
> 
> He pulled the cushions off the sofa and set them, one next to the other, on the floor in front of the fireplace. These he covered with a blanket Hux had been sleeping under, and put a folded sheet on top of that. His heart was hammering like mad. Telling it that what he was building _was most definitely not_ a nest did not help much. He was jittery in a way he hadn’t felt since the Life Days spent on Kashyyyk during his early childhood. The alpha in him wanted to run in circles. _It’s **just** a massage, for stars’ sake_, he snapped at it - but to no avail. The fact that he already knew how sweet the General’s moans sounded and how deliciously his body trembled when he climaxed made controlling himself that much harder. 
> 
> With the makeshift bed ready, he made a quick visit to the kitchen to wash his face with cold water. 
> 
> When he returned, Hux was already there. 
> 
> _“So”_
> 
> _“So”_
> 
> They both spoke up at the same time. 
> 
> “Jinx.” Kylo quickly added. 
> 
> “Jinx what?” Hux asked, cocking his head to the side.
> 
> “Oh, that’s just what my- that’s just what General Organa used to say when two people spoke up at the same time.”
> 
> Hux nodded solemnly, as if he just heard some obscure mystery of the universe, and then looked at the bottle of oil in his hand. 
> 
> “So, should I just lie down?”
> 
> “Yes. Just lie on your stomach and try to relax.”
> 
> Another nod. 
> 
> The General then freed his shoulders from the sleeves. His robe slid down his skin and clung to his hips like a skirt, held up only by the thin sash around his narrow waist. Without a word he sank to his knees and prostrated himself onto the layered softness Kylo prepared for him. The delicate fabric of his robe fanned out on the ground like the petals of a huge flower. Its dull grey colour was dyed orange by the glow of the flames, which themselves seemed like a mere reflection of Hux’s hair. 
> 
> Hux. 
> 
> One look at the gentle curve of his spine and the thin, barely visible scars crossing his back, and the carefully constructed wall of Kylo’s self-control begun to crumble. 
> 
>  
> 
> In spite of the fire crackling nearby, Hux was a little bit chilly. 
> 
> He considered asking Ren to grab him some more wine, but decided against. He’d probably look silly drinking it. 
> 
> To tell the truth, he took his time grabbing that oil. While he was in the bathroom, he did some sorely needed last-minute clean-up, which he suspected would last all of five minutes. 
> 
> His shoulder blades twitched a little when the first drop of oil landed between them. 
> 
> “Sorry. Should’ve heated it up…” he heard a voice rumble softly. 
> 
> Hux closed his eyes. Ren’s voice sounded so pleasant like that… it fit in perfectly with the fire and the gale outside. 
> 
> “No, that’s fine.”
> 
> “Tell me if I’m squeezing you too hard or if you’ll feel any pain.”
> 
> “Understood.” Hux nodded, grateful Ren can’t see his face. 
> 
> For a moment he was overcome by a strange sense of disbelief.
> 
> Was he _really_ here, half naked on the floor, mere days from becoming the supreme military commander of the First Order, or was this, perhaps, all a lie? Maybe he was currently lying collapsed in the throne room, his skull caved in, ribs fractured. Maybe he was shackled in a Resistance holding cell, driven insane by force interrogations and solitary confinement. Maybe he was a war orphan who was _not all there_ in the head due to the horrors he had seen. A squalid vagrant wandering the shoreline of Scaparus Port, homeless, smelly, and in drags, and his wild, unbridled fancies lifted him up to become a person of importance. 
> 
> But then Kylo placed his warm hands on the small of his back and slid them up, spreading the oil across his skin, and Hux was so surprised he couldn’t prevent a ragged sigh from escaping his lips. 
> 
> Kylo’s hands were so _huge_. They ran up his spine, thumbs following each nub, until they reached his shoulders, which they gently squeezed. The pads of his thumbs circled around the protuberance of the last cervical vertebra. Hux felt himself pushed into the cushions - and he never wanted it to stop. Kylo’s fingers expertly kneaded his muscles, forcing the knots out of them. Hux concentrated on their touch, on the warmth, and wished they’d massage him harder. He didn’t care if it would hurt, as long as that warm presence eclipsed all those fears he _should’ve_ seen as irrational. 
> 
> And as if on cue, the touch became rougher. 
> 
> Hux knotted his eyebrows. 
> 
> “Ren. Did… you hear?”
> 
> There was no answer. 
> 
> “Ren.”
> 
> “I… why do you keep running away from all that brings you pleasure? Even now you do it.” Ren’s voice muttered, tinged with sorrow. 
> 
> Hux felt the sudden urge to curl into a ball. Possibly someplace deep. 
> 
> “You know I don’t want to hurt you. I… that promotion doesn’t mean I expect- or want you to - repay the favour in any way. I want to work _with_ you, but for that I need to understand you better.”
> 
> Two thumbs slid down the sides of Hux’s spine, and once they reached the small of his back, the rest of the fingers spread out to encompass as much skin as possible. _‘Understand you better_ ’. Hux pressed his lips together. People saying such words always made it always sound so easy. They also usually weren’t part of the First Order- or at least its military. 
> 
> “Everything I do, I do for the good of the Order. Chasing after my own pleasures is a distraction.” Hux said, shame turning his words into a half-coherent mumble. 
> 
> “And what if those _so-called pleasures_ are, in fact, perfectly normal things that any healthy being needs to thrive?” 
> 
> “I’m not… used to think of anything that doesn’t further the cause. Even though I used to. At this point I’m not even sure when did it change. When have _I_ changed. Back then, things didn’t used to be like that.”
> 
> “Back when?” Kylo asked as the bases of his palms pressed hard against the shoulder blades. He quickly added them to the list of his favourite features of Hux’s body. Their sleek, elegant outlines under the silky-soft skin, heated up by both Hux’s own body and Kylo’s ministrations, attracted his touch like a pair of suns. 
> 
> He took the bottle of oil and squirted some more into his hand. Once the bottle was placed back on the floor, he rubbed the oil between his palms, which he then slid down Hux’s lower back. It didn’t escape him how Hux suddenly buried his face into the cushion, and how his toes twitched. His scent was stronger than ever before. So strong, it almost made Kylo’s head spin. The alpha decided to concentrate on the pleasure he felt _now_ as opposed to the one his body urged him to take. 
> 
> A particularly strong gust of wind shook the house, and a new volley of raindrops was hurled against the windows. Hux relaxed a little when he observed the violence dished out by nature. 
> 
> “…probably before Snoke.” He answered after a long pause. “Tarkin was a hunter. Thrawn enjoyed art and Gallius Rax loved the opera. And I? …I tried to tell myself I’m not a droid, but the longer I think about it, the fewer differences I see.” 
> 
> Kylo frowned because he could see what Hux meant. 
> 
> “What would you like to do then?” he asked, trying to chase the stiffness out of the lower back away. 
> 
> “I don’t even know…” Hux replied quietly, and it sounded so much like a sigh, and was so full of dejection, it stilled all of Kylo’s movements for a moment. 
> 
> The rest of the massage passed without any further words from either of them. At the end, Kylo took a towel and thoroughly wiped Hux’s reddened back, then went upstairs to throw it in the washing machine while Hux covered himself up with his robe. He was sitting on the reassembled sofa deep in thought when Kylo returned. The Supreme Leader didn’t say anything and went straight to the kitchen. When he returned, he was holding two mugs of mulled wine. Handing one to Hux, he sat down next to him. 
> 
> More silence. Kylo tried to concentrate on the gale outside, on the spicy taste of the wine, on the flow of the force all around him. He wasn’t sitting close enough to Hux for their legs to touch, but he could feel his warmth. It put him at ease. He felt so calm, it was almost scary. Calm wasn’t _him_ , it did not become him… or so he used to think in the past; or so everyone had told him. Now he knew better. It was fascinating how clear his head was, how strongly he perceived the world all around him. Even the notion that the Resistance was somewhere out there evoked nothing but a distant, grim sense of determination. 
> 
> “You know,” Hux spoke up quite unexpectedly. “Whenever I feel any sort of satisfaction or find something that brings me joy, I instantly hear father’s voice in my head, reprimanding me. And it’s funny. I’ve achieved far more than he ever did. I even had him removed. In spite of that, his voice remains.”
> 
> He pressed his lips together and turned away, his cheeks slightly red, as if in shame. 
> 
> Kylo took a big gulp of the wine. Time for actions. 
> 
> He reached out to Hux, put his hand on a narrow shoulder, and pulled the man against him. Hux jumped a little at first, but he accepted the touch and shifted a bit to get into a more comfortable position. In the end, they were both leaning against one-another. Enough to be snug, but not enough to prevent them from drinking. 
> 
> After a while, Hux put his empty mug on the table and straightened up. 
> 
> “I think I’ll go to bed now.” He announced, his gaze drawn by the rivulets of rain running down the windowpane. 
> 
> _Oh._
> 
> “I see. Good night then.” Kylo nodded, dropping his look to the carpet. 
> 
> And then, slender fingers closed around the back of his hand. 
> 
> “It is cold tonight. Draft gets everywhere. It might be… better if you join me.”
> 
> “That would be…nice.” Kylo replied, wondering where the hell did all those butterflies in his stomach came from. “It _is_ cold.” 
> 
> He too finished his wine and put his empty mug next to Hux’s. 
> 
> Then the both of them got up and went upstairs. 
> 
> Kylo lay down on the bed, pulled the covers up to his chin and closed his eyes, while Hux took another brief shower. When he got out, he turned the lights off and climbed in next to Kylo. He kept his distance at first, but then he scooted closer. 
> 
> “It’s cold in here.” He muttered. 
> 
> Kylo took the hint, rolled over on his side, and pulled the General snug against his front. Hux just sighed and his whole body relaxed, as if he had already fallen asleep. 
> 
> “Thank you for the massage. It felt really good.” He all but whispered. 
> 
> “You’re welcome, Hux. Very much so.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks for the kudos and wonderful comments some of you have left on this little story. They warmed my heart and continue to do so. 
> 
> Also, I apologize for the irregular updates. I probably lack discipline.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments will be much appreciated.


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